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MARJORIE'S  VACATION 


BY  THE  SAME  AUTHOR 

PATTY  SERIES 

PATTY  FAIRFIELD 
PATTY  AT  HOME 
PATTY  IN  THE  CITY 
PATTY'S  SUMMER  DAYS 
PATTY  IN  PARIS 
PATTY'S  FRIENDS 
PATTY'S  PLEASURE  TRIP 
PATTY'S  SUCCESS 
PATTY'S  MOTOR  CAR 
PATTY'S  BUTTERFLY  DAYS 


MARJORIE'S  VACATION 
MARJORIE'S  BUSY  DAYS 
MARJORIE'S  NEW  FRIEND 
MARJORIE  IN  COMMAND 
MARJORIE'S  MAYTIME 
MARJORIE  AT  SEACOTE 


"Molly  threw  herself  flat  on  the  porch  and 
reached  down  a  helping  hand" 


MARJORIE'S 
VACATION 

BY 

CAROLYN  WELLS 

AUTHOR  OF 
THE   "PATTY"    BOOKS 


GROSSET    &    DUNLAP 

PUBLISHERS  NEW   YORK 


Copyright,  1907 
By  DODD,  MEAD  &  COMPANY 


MY  LITTLE  FRIEND 
MURIEL   DUNHAM  PRATT 

THIS  BOOK 

IS 
LOVINGLY  DEDICATED 


1128907 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGr 

I.  MARJORIE'S  HOME i 

II.  THE  TRIP  TO  HASLEMERK        .        .        .        .18 

III.  ON  THE  ROOF 30 

IV.  A  PAPER-DOLL  HOUSE     ......      45 

V.  SOME  INTERESTING  LETTERS    .        .  .59 

VI.  Boo! 73 

VII.  A  BOAT-RIDE 86 

VIII.  A  MEMORY  BOOK 100 

IX.  THE  FRONT  STAIRS 115 

X.  A  LONG  DAY 130 

XI.  THE  DUNNS 142 

XII.  THE  BAZAAR 156 

XIII.  A  BIRTHDAY 171 

XIV.  "BREEZY  INN" 185 

XV.  THE  BROKEN  LADDER 199 

XVI.  FIRECRACKERS 214 

XVII.  PENNYROYAL 229 


CONTENTS 


THAPTER 


PAGE 


XVIII.     WELCOME  GIFTS 243 

XIX..   THE  OLD  WELL 258 

XX.     AN  EVENTFUL  DAY          .....  272 

XXI.    A  FAREWELL  TEA-PARTY        ....  290 


MARJORIE'S   VACATION 

CHAPTER  I 

MARJORIE'S  HOME 

IN  the  Maynards'  side  yard  at  Rockwell,  a 
swingful  of  children  was  slowly  swaying  back 
and  forth. 

The  swing  was  one  of  those  big  double  wooden 
affairs  that  hold  four  people,  so  the  Maynards 
just  filled  it  comfortably. 

It  was  a  lovely  soft  summer  day  in  the  very  be- 
ginning of  June ;  the  kind  of  day  that  makes  any- 
body feel  happy  but  a  little  bit  subdued.  The 
kind  of  day  when  the  sky  is  so  blue,  and  the  air  so 
clear,  that  everything  seems  dreamy  and  quiet. 

But  the  Maynard  children  were  little,  if  any, 
affected  by  the  atmosphere,  and  though  they  did 


2  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

seem  a  trifle  subdued,  it  was  a  most  unusual  state 
of  things,  and  was  brought  about  by  reasons  far 
more  definite  than  sky  or  atmosphere. 

Kingdon  Maynard,  the  oldest  of  the  four,  and 
the  only  boy,  was  fourteen.  These  facts  had  long 
ago  fixed  his  position  as  autocrat,  dictator,  and 
final  court  of  appeal.  Whatever  King  said,  was 
law  to  the  three  girls,  but  as  the  boy  was  really  a 
mild-mannered  tyrant,  no  trouble  ensued.  Of 
late,  though,  he  had  begun  to  show  a  slight  incli- 
nation to  go  off  on  expeditions  with  other  boys,  in 
which  girls  were  not  included.  But  this  was 
accepted  by  his  sisters  as  a  natural  course  of 
events,  for  of  course,  if  King  did  it,  it  must  be 
all  right. 

Next  to  Kingdon  in  the  swing  sat  the  baby, 
Rosamond,  who  was  five  years  old,  and  who  was 
always  called  Rosy  Posy.  She  held  in  her  arms  a 
•jood-sized  white  Teddy  Bear,  who  was  adorned 
with  a  large  blue  bow  and  whose  name  was  Boffin. 
He  was  the  child's  inseparable  companion,  and,  as 
he  was  greatly  beloved  by  the  other  children,  he 
was  generally  regarded  as  a  member  of  the  family. 


MARJORIE'S  HOME  3 

On  the  opposite  seat  of  the  swing  sat  Kitty,  who 
was  nine  years  old,  and  who  closely  embraced  her 
favorite  doll,  Arabella. 

And  by  Kitty's  side  sat  Marjorie,  who  was  al- 
most twelve,  and  who  also  held  a  pet,  which,  in  her 
case,  was  a  gray  Persian  kitten.  This  kitten  was 
of  a  most  amiable  disposition,  and  was  named 
Puff,  because  of  its  fluffy  silver  fur  and  fat  little 
body. 

Wherever  Marjorie  went,  Puff  was  usually  with 
her,  and  oftenest  hung  over  her  arm,  looking  more 
like  a  fur  boa  than  a  cat. 

At  the  moment,  however,  Puff  was  curled  up 
in  Marjorie's  lap,  and  was  merely  a  nondescript 
ball  of  fur. 

These,  then,  were  the  Maynards,  and  though 
their  parents  would  have  said  they  had  four  chil- 
dren, yet  the  children  themselves  always  said,  "We 
are  seven,"  and  insisted  on  considering  the  kitten, 
the  doll,  and  the  bear  as  members  of  the  Maynard 
family. 

Kingdon  scorned  pets,  which  the  girls  con- 
sidered quite  the  right  thing  for  a  boy  to  do; 


4  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

and,  anyway,  Kingdon  had  enough  to  attend  to, 
to  keep  the  swing  going. 

"I  'most  wish  it  wasn't  my  turn,"  said  Mar- 
jorie,  with  a  little  sigh.  "Of  course  I  want  to  go 
for  lots  of  reasons,  but  I'd  love  to  be  in  Rockwell 
this  summer,  too." 

"As  you're  not  twins  you  can't  very  well  be  in 
two  places  at  once,"  said  her  brother;  "but  you'll 
have  a  gay  old  time,  Mops;  there's  the  new  boat- 
house,  you  know,  since  you  were  there." 

"I  haven't  been  there  for  three  years,"  said 
Marjorie,  "and  I  suppose  there'll  be  lots  of 
changes." 

"I  was  there  two  years  ago,"  said  Kitty,  "but 
Arabella  has  never  been." 

"I'se  never  been,  eever,"  said  Rosy  Posy,  wist- 
fully, "and  so  Boffin  hasn't,  too.  But  we  don't 
want  to  go,  us  wants  to  stay  home  wiv  Muwer." 

"And  I  say,  Mops,  look  out  for  the  Baltimore 
oriole,"  went  on  Kingdon.  "He  had  a  nest  in  the 
big  white  birch  last  year,  and  like  as  not  he'll  be 
there  again." 

"There  was  a  red-headed  woodpecker  two  yean 


MARJORIE'S  HOME  5 

ago,"  said  Kitty;  "perhaps  he'll  be  there  this 
summer." 

"I  hope  so,"  said  Marjorie;  "I'm  going  to  take 
my  big  Bird  book,  and  then  I  can  tell  them  all." 

It  was  the  custom  in  the  Maynard  household  for 
one  of  the  children  to  go  each  summer  to  Grandma 
Sherwood's  farm  near  Morristown.  They  took 
turns,  but  as  Rosy  Posy  was  so  little  she  had  not 
begun  yet. 

The  children  always  enjoyed  the  vacation  at 
Grandma's,  but  they  were  a  chummy  little  crowd 
and  dreaded  the  separation.  This  was  the  reason 
of  their  subdued  and  depressed  air  to-day. 

It  was  Marjorie's  turn,  and  she  was  to  leave 
home  the  next  morning.  Mrs.  Maynard  was  to 
accompany  her  on  the  journey,  and  then  return, 
leaving  Marjorie  in  the  country  for  three  months. 

"I  wonder  how  Puffy  will  like  it,"  she  said,  as 
she  picked  up  the  kitten,  and  looked  into  its  blue 
eyes. 

"She'll  be  all  right,"  said  Kingdon,  "if  she  does- 
n't fight  with  Grandma's  cats.  There  were  about 
a  dozen  there  last  year,  and  they  may  object  to 


6  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

Puffs  style  of  hair-dressing.  Perhaps  we'd  bet- 
ter cut  her  hair  before  she  starts." 

"No,  indeed!"  cried  Marjorie,  "not  a  hair  shall 
be  touched,  unless  you'd  like  a  lock  to  keep  to 
remember  her  while  she's  gone." 

"No,  thank  you,"  said  King,  loftily;  "I  don't 
carry  bits  of  cat  around  in  my  pockets." 

"I'd  like  a  lock,"  said  Kitty;  "I'd  tie  it  with 
a  little  blue  ribbon,  and  keep  it  for  a  forget-me- 
not.  And  I'll  give  you  a  little  curl  of  Arabella's, 
and  you  can  keep  that  to  remember  her  by." 

"All  right,"  said  Marjorie;  "and  I'll  take  a 
lock  of  Boffin  Bear's  hair  too.  Then  I'll  have  a 
memento  of  all  the  family,  because  I  have  pictures 
of  all  of  you,  you  know." 

With  the  Maynards  to  suggest  was  to  act.  So 
the  four  scrambled  out  of  the  swing,  and  ran  to 
the  house. 

The  Maynard  house  was  a  large  square  affair, 
with  verandas  all  around.  Not  pretentious,  but 
homelike  and  comfortable,  and  largely  given  over 
to  the  children's  use.  Though  not  often  in  the 
drawing-room,  the  four  young  Maynards  fre- 


MARJORIE'S  HOME  T 

quently  monopolized  the  large  living-room,  and 
were  allowed  free  access  to  the  library  as 
well. 

Also  they  had  a  general  playroom  and  a 
nursery;  and  Kingdon  had  a  small  den  or  work- 
room for  his  own  use,  which  was  oftener  than  not 
invaded  by  the  girls. 

To  the  playroom  they  went,  and  Kingdon  care- 
fully cut  small  locks  from  the  kitten,  the  doll,  and 
the  bear,  and  Marjorie  neatly  tied  them  with  nar- 
row blue  ribbons.  These  mementoes  the  girls  put 
away,  and  carefully  treasured  all  through  the 
summer. 

Another  Maynard  custom  was  a  farewell  feast 
at  dinner,  the  night  before  vacation  began.  Ordi- 
narily, only  the  two  older  children  dined  with  their 
parents,  the  other  two  having  their  tea  in  the 
nursery.  But  on  this  occasion,  all  were  allowed 
at  dinner,  and  the  feast  was  made  a  special  honor 
for  the  one  who  was  going  away.  Gifts  were 
made,  as  on  a  birthday,  and  festival  dress  was  in 
order. 

A  little  later,  then,  the  four  children  presented 


8  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

themselves    in    the    library,   where    their    parents 
awaited  them. 

Mr.  Maynard  was  a  man  of  merry  disposition 
and  rollicking  nature,  and  sometimes  joined  so 
heartily  in  the  children's  play  that  he  seemed 
scarcely  older  than  they. 

Mrs.  Maynard  was  more  sedate,  and  was  a  lov- 
ing mother,  though  not  at  all  a  fussy  one.  She 
was  glad  in  many  ways  to  have  one  of  her  children 
spend  the  summer  each  year  with  her  mother,  but 
it  always  saddened  her  when  the  time  of  departure 
came. 

She  put  her  arm  around  Marjorie,  without  a 
word,  as  the  girl  came  into  the  room,  for  it  had 
been  three  years  since  the  two  had  been  parted, 
and  Mrs.  Maynard  felt  a  little  sad  at  the  thought 
of  separation. 

"Don't  look  like  that,  Mother,"  said  Marjorie, 
"for  if  you  do,  I'll  begin  to  feel  weepy,  and  I  won't 
go  at  all." 

"Oh,  yes,  you  will,  Miss  Midge,"  cried  her 
father;  "you'll  go,  and  you'll  stay  all  summer, 
and  you'll  have  a  perfectly  beautiful  time.  And, 


then,  the  first  of  September  I'll  come  flying  up 
there  to  get  you,  and  bring  you  home,  and  it'll  be 
all  over.  Now,  such  a  short  vacation  as  that  isn't 
worth  worrying  about,  is  it?" 

"No,"  put  in  Kingdon,  "and  last  year  when  I 
went  there  wasn't  any  sad  good-by." 

"That's  because  you're  a  boy,"  said  his  mother, 
smiling  at  him  proudly;  "tearful  good-bys  are 
only  for  girls  and  women." 

"Yes,"  said  Mr.  Maynard,  "they  enjoy  them, 
you  know.  Now,  /  think  it  is  an  occasion  of  re- 
joicing that  Marjorie  is  to  go  to  Grandma's  and 
have  a  happy,  jolly  vacation.  We  can  all  write 
letters  to  her,  and  she  will  write  a  big  budget  of 
a  family  letter  that  we  can  all  enjoy  together." 

"And  Mopsy  must  wite  me  a  little  letter,  all  for 
my  own  sef ,"  remarked  Rosy  Posy,  "  'cause  I  like 
to  get  letters  all  to  me." 

Baby  Rosamond  was  dressed  up  for  the  occasion 
in  a  very  frilly  white  frock,  and  being  much  im- 
pressed by  the  grandeur  of  staying  up  to  dinner, 
she  had  solemnly  seated  herself  in  state  on  a  big 
sofa,  holding  Boffin  Bear  in  her  arms.  Her  words, 


10 

therefore,  seemed  to  have  more  weight  than  when 
she  was  her  everyday  roly-poly  self,  tumbling 
about  on  the  floor,  and  Marjorie  at  once  promised 
that  she  should  have  some  letters  all  to  herself. 

When  dinner  was  announced,  Mr.  Maynard, 
with  Marjorie,  led  the  procession  to  the  dining- 
room.  They  were  followed  by  Mrs.  Maynard  and 
Rosamond,  and  after  them  came  Kingdon  and 
Kitty. 

Kitty  was  a  golden-haired  little  girl,  quite  in 
contrast  to  Marjorie,  who  had  tangled  masses  of 
dark,  curly  hair  and  large,  dark  eyes.  Her  cheeks 
were  round  and  rosy,  and  her  little  white  teeth 
could  almost  always  be  seen,  for  merry  Marjorie 
was  laughing  most  of  the  time.  To-night  she 
wore  one  of  her  prettiest  white  dresses,  and  her 
dark  curls  were  clustered  at  the  top  of  her  head 
into  a  big  scarlet  bow.  The  excitement  of  the 
occasion  made  her  cheeks  red  and  her  eyes  bright, 
and  Mrs.  Maynard  looked  at  her  pretty  eldest 
daughter  with  a  pardonable  pride. 

"Midge,"  she  said,  "there  are  just  about  a  hun- 
dred things  I  ought  to  tell  you  before  you  go 


MARJORIE'S  HOME  11 

to  Grandma's,  but  if  I  were  to  tell  you  now,  you 
wouldn't  remember  one  of  them ;  so  I  have  written 
them  all  down,  and  you  must  take  the  list  with 
you,  and  read  it  every  morning  so  that  you  may 
remember  and  obey  the  instructions." 

Midge  was  one  of  the  numerous  nicknames  by 
which  Marjorie  was  called.  Her  tumbling,  curly 
hair,  which  was  everlastingly  escaping  from  its 
ribbon,  had  gained  for  her  the  title  of  Mops  or 
Mopsy.  Midge  and  Midget  had  clung  to  her 
from  babyhood,  because  she  was  an  active  and  en- 
ergetic child,  and  so  quick  of  motion  that  she 
seemed  to  dart  like  a  midge  from  place  to  place. 
She  never  did  anything  slowly.  Whether  it  was 
an  errand  for  her  mother  or  a  game  of  play, 
Midge  always  moved  rapidly.  Her  tasks  were 
always  done  in  half  the  time  it  took  the  other 
children  to  do  theirs;  but  in  consequence  of  this 
haste,  they  were  not  always  done  as  well  or  as 
thoroughly  as  could  be  desired. 

This,  her  mother  often  told  her,  was  her  be- 
setting sin,  and  Marjorie  truly  tried  to  correct  it 
when  she  thought  of  it;  but  often  she  was  too 


12  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

busy  with  the  occupation  in  hand  to  remember  the 
good  instructions  she  had  received. 

"I'm  glad  you  did  that,  Mother,"  she  replied 
to  her  mother's  remark,  "for  I  really  haven't  time 
to  study  the  list  now.  But  I'll  promise  to  read 
it  over  every  morning  at  Grandma's,  and  honest 
and  true,  I'll  try  to  be  good." 

"Of  course  you  will,"  said  her  father,  heartily ; 
"you'll  be  the  best  little  girl  in  the  world,  except 
the  two  you  leave  here  behind  you." 

"Me's  the  bestest,"  calmly  remarked  Rosamond, 
who  seemed  especially  satisfied  with  herself  that 
evening. 

"You  are,"  agreed  King;  "you  look  good 
enough  to  eat,  to-night." 

Rosamond  beamed  happily,  for  she  was  not 
unused  to  flattering  observations  from  the  family. 
And,  indeed,  she  was  a  delicious-looking  morsel 
of  humanity,  as  she  sat  in  her  high  chair,  and 
tried  her  best  to  "behave  like  a  lady." 

The  table  was  decorated  with  June  roses  and 
daisies.  The  dinner  included  Marjorie's  favorite 
dishes,  and  the  dessert  was  strawberries  and  ice 


MARJORIE'S  HOME  18 

cream,  which,  Kitty  declared,  always  made  a 
party,  anyway. 

So  with  the  general  air  of  celebration,  and  Mr. 
Maynard's  gay  chatter  and  jokes,  the  little  trace 
of  sadness  that  threatened  to  appear  was  kept 
out  of  sight,  and  all  through  the  summer  Mar- 
jorie  had  only  pleasant  memories  of  her  last  even- 
ing at  home. 

After  the  dessert  the  waitress  appeared  again 
with  a  trayful  of  parcels,  done  up  in  the  most 
fascinating  way,  in  tissue  paper  and  dainty 
ribbons. 

This,  too,  was  always  a  part  of  the  farewell 
feast,  and  Marjorie  gave  a  little  sigh  of  satis- 
faction, as  the  well-filled  tray  was  placed  before 
her. 

"That's  mine!  Open  mine  first!"  cried  Rosa- 
mond, as  Marjorie  picked  up  a  good-sized 
bundle. 

"Yes,  that's  Rosy  Posy's,"  said  her  mother, 
laughing,  "and  she  picked  it  out  herself,  because 
she  thought  it  would  please  you.  Open  it  first. 
Midge." 


14  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

So  Marjorie  opened  the  package,  and  discovered 
a  little  clock,  on  the  top  of  which  was  perched  a 
brilliant  red  bird. 

Rosamond  clapped  her  hands  in  glee.  "I  knew 
you'd  love  it,"  she  cried,  "  'cause  it's  a  birdie,  a 
yed  birdie.  And  I  finded  it  all  mysef  in  the  man's 
shop.  Do  you  yike  it,  Mopsy?" 

"Indeed  I  do,"  cried  Marjorie;  "it's  just  what 
I  wanted.  I  shall  keep  it  on  my  dressing-table 
at  Grandma's,  and  then  I'll  know  just  when  to  get 
up  every  morning." 

"Open  mine  next,"  said  Kitty ;  "it's  the  square 
flat  one,  with  the  blue  ribbon." 

So  Marjorie  opened  Kitty's  present  and  it  was 
a  picture,  beautifully  framed  to  hang  on  the  wall 
at  Grandma's.  The  picture  was  of  birds,  two 
beautiful  orioles  on  a  branch.  The  colors  were 
so  bright,  and  so  true  to  nature,  that  Marjorie 
exclaimed  in  delight: 

"Now  I  shall  have  orioles  there,  anyway, 
whether  there  are  real  ones  in  the  trees  or  not. 
It  is  lovely,  Kitsie,  and  I  don't  see  how  you  ever 
found  such  a  beautiful  bird  picture." 


MARJORIE'S  HOME  15 

Marjorie  had  always  been  fond  of  birds,  and 
lately  had  begun  studying  them  in  earnest. 
Orioles  were  among  her  favorites,  and  so  Kitty's 
picture  was  a  truly  welcome  gift.  King's  pres- 
ent came  next,  and  was  a  beautiful  gold  pen  with  a 
pearl  holder. 

"That,"  he  explained,  "is  so  you'll  write  to  us 
often.  For  I  know,  Mops,  your  old  penholder  is 
broken,  and  it's  silver,  anyway.  This  is  nicer, 
because  it's  no  trouble  to  keep  it  clean  and 
bright." 

"That's  so,  King,  and  I'm  delighted  with  this 
one.  I  shall  write  you  a  letter  with  it,  first  of  all, 
and  I'll  tell  you  all  about  the  farm." 

Mrs.  Maynard's  gift  was  in  a  very  small  parcelr 
and  when  Marjorie  opened  it  she  found  a  dear 
little  pearl  ring. 

"Oh,  goody!"  she  cried.  "I  do  love  rings,  and 
I  never  had  one  before!  May  I  wear  it  always, 
Mother?" 

"Yes,"  said  Mrs.  Maynard,  smiling.  "I  don't 
approve  of  much  jewelry  for  a  little  girl  not 
yet  twelve  years  old,  but  you  may  wear  that." 


16  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

Marjorie  put  it  on  her  finger  with  great  satis- 
faction, and  Kitty  looked  at  it  lovingly. 

"May  I  have  one  when  I  am  twelve,  Mother?" 
she  asked. 

"May  I,  may  I?"  chimed  in  Rosy  Posy. 

"Yes,"  said  Mr.  Maynard ;  "you  girls  may  each 
have  one  just  like  Marjorie's  when  you  are  as 
old  as  she  is  now.  That  last  parcel,  Mops,  is  my 
present  for  you.  I'm  not  sure  that  you  can  learn 
to  use  it,  but  perhaps  you  can,  and  if  not  I'll 
take  it  back  and  exchange  it  for  something 
else." 

Marjorie  eagerly  untied  the  wrappings  of 
her  father's  gift,  and  found  a  little  snapshot 
camera. 

"Indeed  I  can  learn  to  use  it,"  she  cried;  "I 
took  some  pictures  once  with  a  camera  that  be- 
longed to  one  of  the  girls  at  school,  and  they 
were  all  right.  Thank  you  heaps  and  heaps, 
father  dear;  I'll  send  you  pictures  of  everything 
on  the  place;  from  Grandma  herself  down  to  the 
littlest,  weeniest,  yellow  chicken." 

"Next  year  it  will  be  my  turn  to  go,"  said 


MARJORIE'S  HOME  17 

Kitty;  "I  hope  I'll  get  as  lovely  presents  as 
Mopsy  has." 

"You  will,"  said  Kingdon ;  "because  last  year 
mine  were  just  as  good,  and  so,  of  course,  yours 
will  be." 

"I'm  sure  they  will,"  said  Kitty. 


CHAPTER  II 

THE    TRIP    TO    HASLEMEEE 

THE  next  morning  all  was  bustle  and  excite- 
ment. 

Mr.  Maynard  stayed  at  home  from  business  to 
escort  the  travellers  to  the  train.  The  trunks  were 
packed,  and  everything  was  in  readiness  for  their 
departure.  Marjorie  herself,  in  a  spick-and-span 
pink  gingham  dress,  a  tan-colored  travelling  cloak, 
and  a  broad-brimmed  white  straw  hat,  stood  in  the 
hall  saying  good-bye  to  the  other  children.  She 
carried  Puff  in  her  arm,  and  the  sleepy,  indif- 
ferent kitten  cared  little  whither  she  was  going. 

"Be  sure,"  Kingdon  was  saying,  "to  plant  the 
seeds  I  gave  you  in  a  sunny  place,  for  if  you  don't 
they  won't  grow  right." 

"What  are  the  seeds?"  asked  Marjorie. 

"Never  mind  that,"  said  her  brother;  "you  just 
18 


THE  TRIP  TO  HASLEMERE          19 

plant  them  in  a  warm,  sunny  bed,  in  good,  rich 
soil,  and  then  you  wait  and  see  what  comes  up. 
It's  a  surprise." 

"All  right,  I'll  do  that,  and  I  suppose  Grand- 
ma will  give  me  a  lot  of  seeds  besides;  we  always 
have  gardens,  you  know." 

"Be  sure  to  write  to  me,"  said  Kitty,  "about 
Molly  Moss.  She's  the  one  that  lives  in  the  next 
house  but  one  to  Grandma's.  You've  never  seen 
her,  but  I  saw  her  two  years  ago,  and  she's  an 
awfully  nice  girl.  You'll  like  her,  I  know." 

"And  what  shall  I  remember  to  do  for  you,  Rosy 
Posy?"  asked  Marjorie,  as  she  kissed  the  baby 
good-bye. 

"Don't  know,"  responded  the  little  one;  "I've 
never  been  to  Gamma's.  Is  they  piggy-wigs 
there?" 

"No,"  said  Marjorie,  laughing;  "no  piggy- 
wigs,  but  some  nice  ducks." 

"All  wite;  b'ing  me  a  duck." 

"I  will,  if  Grandma  will  give  me  one" ;  and  then 
Marjorie  was  hurried  down  the  steps  by  her 
father,  and  into  the  carriage,  and  away  she  went, 


JO  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

with  many  a  backward  look  at  the  three  children 
who  stood  on  the  veranda  waving  good-byes  to 
her. 

The  railroad  trip  to  Morristown  lasted  about 
four  hours,  and  Marjorie  greatly  enjoyed  it.  Mr. 
Maynard  had  put  the  two  travellers  into  their 
chairs  in  the  parlor  car,  and  arranged  their  be- 
longings for  them.  Marjorie  had  brought  a  book 
to  read  and  a  game  to  play,  but  with  the  novel 
attractions  of  the  trip  and  the  care  of  her  kitten, 
she  was  not  likely  to  have  time  hang  heavily  on  her 
hands. 

Mrs.  Maynard  read  a  magazine  for  a  time,  and 
then  they  were  summoned  to  luncheon  in  the  dining- 
car.  Marjorie  thought  this  great  fun,  for  what 
is  nicer  than  to  be  a  hungry  little  girl  of  twelve, 
and  to  eat  all  sorts  of  good  things,  while  flying 
swiftly  along  in  a  railroad  train,  and  gazing  out 
of  the  window  at  towns  and  cities  rushing  by  ? 

Marjorie  sat  opposite  her  mother,  and  observed 
with  great  interest  the  other  passengers  about. 
Across  the  car  was  a  little  girl  who  seemed  to  be 
about  her  own  age,  and  Marjorie  greatly  v-'^iM 


THE  TRIP  TO  HASLEMERE          21 

that  they  might  become  acquainted.  Mrs.  May- 
nard  said  that  after  luncheon  she  might  go  and 
speak  to  the  little  stranger  if  she  chose,  and  Mar- 
jorie  gladly  did  so. 

"I  wonder  if  you  belong  in  my  car,"  said 
Marjorie,  by  way  of  opening  the  conversation. 

"I  don't  know,"  said  the  other  child;  "our 
seats  are  in  the  car  just  back  of  this." 

"We  are  two  cars  back,"  said  Marjorie,  "but 
perhaps  your  mother  will  let  you  come  into  my  car 
a  while.  I  have  my  kitten  with  me." 

"Where  is  it?"  asked  the  other  little  girl. 

"I  had  to  leave  it  rrith  the  porter  while  we  came 
to  luncheon.  Oh,  she's  the  loveliest  kitten  you 
ever  saw,  and  her  name  is  Puff.  What's  your 
name?" 

"My  name  is  Stella  Martin.     What's  yours?" 

"My  real  name  is  Marjorie  Maynard.  But  I'm 
almost  always  called  Midge  or  Mops  or  some  name 
like  that.  We  all  have  nicknames  at  home;  don't 
you?" 

"No,  because  you  see  I  haven't  any  brothers  of 
sisters.  Mother  always  calls  me  Stella." 


22  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

"Well,  let's  go  and  ask  her  if  you  can't  come 
into  my  car  for  a  while.  My  mother  will  look  after 
you,  and  then  you  can  see  the  kitten." 

After  some  courteous  words  of  explanation 
between  the  two  mothers,  Stella  was  allowed 
to  play  with  Marjorie  for  the  rest  of  the 
journey. 

Seated  together  in  one  of  the  big  Pullman  easy 
chairs,  with  the  kitten  cuddled  between  them,  they 
rapidly  made  each  other's  acquaintance,  and  soon 
became  good  friends.  They  were  not  at  all  alike, 
for  Stella  Martin  was  a  thin,  pale  child  with  a  long 
braid  of  straight,  light  hair,  and  light  blue  eyes. 
She  was  timid,  too,  and  absolutely  devoid  of 
Marjorie's  impetuosity  and  daring. 

But  they  were  both  pleased  at  the  discovery 
that  they  were  to  be  near  neighbors  throughout 
the  summer.  Stella's  home  was  next-door  to 
Grandma  Sherwood's,  although,  as  both  country 
places  were  so  large,  the  houses  were  some  distance 
apart. 

Next  beyond  Stella's  house,  Marjorie  remem- 
bered, was  where  Molly  Moss  lived,  and  so  the 


THE  TRIP  TO  HASLEMERE          28 

outlook  seemed  to  promise  plenty  of  pleasant  com- 
pany. 

About  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  the  train 
reached  Morristown,  and  springing  out  on  the 
platform,  Marjorie  soon  spied  Grandma  Sher- 
wood's carriage  there  to  meet  them.  Old  Moses 
was  still  in  charge  of  the  horses,  as  he  had  been 
ever  since  Marjorie  could  remember,  and  in  a  mo- 
ment she  heard  a  hearty  voice  cry,  "Oh,  there 
you  are!"  and  there  was  Uncle  Steve  waiting  for 
them  on  the  platform. 

Uncle  Steve  was  a  great  friend  of  Marjorie's, 
and  she  flew  to  greet  him  almost  before  he  had 
time  to  welcome  her  mother.  Then  in  a  few  mo- 
ments the  luggage  was  looked  after,  and  they  were 
all  in  the  carriage,  rolling  away  toward  Hasle- 
mere. 

Marjorie  chatted  away  like  a  magpie,  for  she 
had  many  questions  to  ask  Uncle  Steve,  and  as 
she  was  looking  out  to  renew  acquaintance  with 
old  landmarks  along  the  road,  the  drive  to  the 
house  seemed  very  short,  and  soon  they  were  turn- 
ing in  at  the  gate. 


24  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

Haslcmere  was  not  a  large,  old-fashioned  farm, 
but  a  fair-sized  and  well-kept  country  place. 
Grandma  Sherwood,  who  had  been  a  widow  for 
many  years,  lived  there  with  her  son  Stephen.  It 
was  like  a  farm,  because  there  were  chickens  and 
ducks,  and  cows  and  horses,  and  also  a  large  gar- 
den where  fresh  vegetables  of  all  sorts  were  raised. 
But  there  were  no  grain  fields  or  large  pasture 
lands,  or  pigs  or  turkeys,  such  as  belong  to  larger 
farms.  The  drive  from  the  gate  up  to  the  house 
was  a  long  avenue,  shaded  on  both  sides  by  beauti- 
ful old  trees,  and  the  wide  expanse  of  lawn  was 
kept  as  carefully  mowed  as  if  at  a  town  house. 
There  were  flower  beds  in  abundance,  and  among 
the  trees  and  shrubbery  were  rustic  seats  and 
arbors,  hammocks  and  swings,  and  a  delightful 
tent  where  the  children  loved  to  play.  Back  of 
the  house  the  land  sloped  down  to  the  river,  which 
was  quite  large  enough  for  delightful  boating  and 
fishing. 

The  house  was  of  that  old-fashioned  type  which 
has  two  front  doors  and  two  halls,  with  large 
parlors  between  them,  and  wings  on  either  side. 


THE  TRIP  TO  HASLEMERE          25 

A  broad  veranda  ran  across  the  front,  and,  turn- 
ing both  corners,  ran  along  either  side. 

As  they  drove  up  to  the  house,  Grandma  Sher- 
wood was  on  the  piazza  waiting  for  them.  She 
was  not  a  very  old  lady,  that  is,  she  was  not  of 
the  white-haired,  white-capped,  and  silver-spec- 
tacled variety.  She  was  perhaps  sixty  years  old, 
and  seemed  quite  as  energetic  and  enthusiastic  as 
her  daughter,  if  perhaps  not  quite  so  much  so  as 
her  granddaughter. 

Marjorie  sprang  out  of  the  carriage,  and  flew 
like  a  young  whirlwind  to  her  grandmother's  arms, 
which  were  open  to  receive  her. 

"My  dear  child,  how  you  have  grown !" 

"I  knew  you'd  say  that,  Grandma,"  said  Mar- 
jorie, laughing  merrily,  "and,  indeed,  I  have 
grown  since  I  was  here  last.  Just  think,  that  was 
three  years  ago!  I'm  almost  twelve  years  old 
now." 

"Well,  you  are  a  great  girl;  run  in  the  house, 
and  lay  off  your  things,  while  I  speak  to  your 
mother." 

Marjorie  danced  into  the  house,  flung  her  coat 


26  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

and  gloves  on  the  hall  rack,  and  still  holding  her 
kitten,  went  on  through  to  the  kitchen,  in  search 
of  Eliza  the  cook. 

"The  saints  presarve  us!"  cried  Eliza.  "An* 
is  it  yersilf,  Miss  Midget !  Why,  ye' re  as  big  as  a 
tellygraft  pole,  so  ye  are !" 

"I  know  I  am,  Eliza,  but  you're  just  the  same 
as  ever;  and  just  look  at  the  kitten  I  have 
brought!  Have  you  any  here  now?" 

"Cats,  is  it  ?  Indade  we  have,  then !  I'm  think- 
in*  there  do  be  a  hundred  dozen  of  thim;  they're 
undher  me  feet  continual !  But  what  kind  of  a 
baste  is  thot  ye  have  there?  I  niver  saw  such  a 
woolly  one!" 

"This  is  a  Persian  kitten,  Eliza,  and  her  name  is 
Puff.  Isn't  she  pretty?" 

"I'll  not  be  sayin'  she's  purty,  till  I  see  how  she 
doos  be  behavin'.  Is  she  a  good  little  cat,  Miss 
Midget  dear  ?" 

"Good!  Indeed  she  is  a  good  kitty.  And  I 
wish  you'd  give  her  some  milk,  Eliza,  while  I  run 
out  to  see  the  chickens.  Is  Carter  out  there?" 

But  without  waiting  for  an  answer,  Marjorie 


THE  TRIP  TO  HASLEMERE          27 

was  already  flying  down  through  the  garden,  and 
soon  found  Carter,  the  gardener,  at  his  work. 

"Hello,  Carter !"  she  cried.  "How  are  you  this 
summer  ?" 

"Welcome,  Miss  Midge!  I'm  glad  to  see  you 
back,"  exclaimed  the  old  gardener,  who  was  very 
fond  of  the  Maynard  children. 

"And  I'm  glad  to  be  here,  Carter;  and  I  have 
some  seeds  to  plant ;  will  you  help  me  plant  them  ?" 

"That  I  will.     What  are  they?" 

"I  don't  know;  King  gave  them  to  me,  but  he 
wouldn't  tell  me  what  they  were." 

"Ah,  the  mischievous  boy!  Now,  how  can  we 
tell  where  to  plant  them  when  we  don't  know  if 
they'll  come  up  lilies  of  the  valley  or  elephant's 
ears?" 

Marjorie  laughed  gayly.  "It  doesn't  matter, 
Carter,"  she  said ;  "let's  stick  them  in  some  sunny 
place,  and  then,  if  they  seem  to  be  growing  too 
high,  we  can  transplant  them." 

"It's  a  wise  little  head  you  have,  Miss ;  we'll  do 
just  that." 

Humoring    Marjorie's    impatience,    the    good- 


28  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

natured  gardener  helped  her  plant  the  seeds  in  a 
sunny  flowerbed,  and  raked  the  dirt  neatly  over 
them  with  an  experienced  touch. 

"That  looks  lovely,"  said  Marjorie,  with  a  sat- 
isfied nod  of  approval;  "now  let's  go  and  see  the 
chickens." 

This  proved  even  more  interesting  than  she  had 
anticipated,  for  since  her  last  visit  an  incubator 
had  been  purchased,  and  there  were  hundreds  of 
little  chickens  of  various  sizes,  in  different  com- 
partments, to  be  looked  at  and  admired. 

"Aren't  they  darlings!"  exclaimed  Marjorie, 
as  she  watched  the  little  yellow  balls  trying  to 
balance  themselves  on  slender  little  brown  stems 
that  hardly  seemed  as  if  they  could  be  meant  for 
legs.  "Oh,  Carter,  I  shall  spend  hours  out  here 
every  day!" 

"Do,  Miss  Midge;  I'll  be  glad  to  have  you,  and 
the  chickens  won't  mind  it  a  bit." 

"Now  the  horses,"  Marjorie  went  on,  and  off 
they  went  to  the  stables,  where  Moses  had  already 
unharnessed  the  carriage  team,  and  put  them  in 
their  stalls.  Uncle  Steve  had  a  new  saddle  horse, 


THE  TRIP  TO  HASLEMERE          29 

which  came  in  for  a  large  share  of  admiration, 
and  the  old  horse,  Betsy,  which  Grandma  Sher- 
wood liked  to  drive  herself,  was  also  to  be  greeted. 

Marjorie  loved  all  animals,  but  after  cats, 
horses  were  her  favorites. 

"Are  there  any  ducks  this  year,  Carter?"  she 
inquired. 

"Yes,  Miss  Midge,  there  is  a  duck-pond  full  of 
them;  and  you  haven't  seen  the  new  boathouse 
that  was  built  last  year  for  Master  Kingdon." 

"No,  but  I  want  to  see  it ;  and  oh,  Carter,  don't 
you  think  you  could  teach  me  to  row?" 

"I'm  sure  of  it,  Miss  Midge;  but  I  hear  your 
grandmother  calling  you,  and  I  think  you'd  better 
leave  the  boathouse  to  see  to-morrow." 

"All  right ;  I  think  so  too,  Carter."  And  Mar- 
jorie ran  back  to  the  house,  her  broad-brimmed 
hat  in  one  hand  and  her  hair  ribbon  in  the  other, 
while  her  curls  were,  indeed,  in  a  tangled  mop. 


ON    THE    EOOF 

"WHY,  Mopsy  Maynard,"  exclaimed  her  mother, 
as  Marjorie  danced  into  the  house,  smiling  and 
dishevelled,  "what  a  looking  head!  Please  go 
straight  to  your  room,  and  make  yourself  tidy 
before  supper  time." 

"Yes,  indeed,  Mother,  but  just  listen  a  minute! 
Uncle  Steve  has  a  new  horse,  a  black  one,  and  there 
are  a  hundred  million  little  chickens,  in  the  queer- 
est kind  of  a  thing,  but  I  can't  remember  its  name, 
— it's  something  like  elevator." 

"Incubator,  perhaps,"  suggested  her  mother. 

"Yes,  that's  it;  and  oh,  Mother,  it's  so  funny! 
Do  come  out  and  see  it,  won't  you?" 

"Not  to-night,  child;  and  now  run  up  to  your 
room  and  tie  up  your  hair." 

ie  danced  upstairs,  singing  as  she  went, 
30 


ON  THE  ROOF  31 

but  when  she  reached  the  door  of  the  room  she 
was  accustomed  to  use,  she  stopped  her  singing 
and  stood  in  the  doorway,  stock-still  with  sheer 
bewilderment. 

For  somehow  the  room  had  been  entirely  trans- 
formed, and  looked  like  a  totally  different  apart- 
ment. 

The  room  was  in  one  of  the  wings  of  the  house, 
and  was  large  and  square,  with  windows  on  two 
sides.  But  these  had  been  ordinary  windows,  and 
now  they  were  replaced  by  large,  roomy  bay  win- 
dows, with  glass  doors  that  reached  from  floor 
to  ceiling,  and  opened  out  on  little  balconies.  In 
one  of  these  bay  windows  was  a  dear  little  rock- 
ing-chair painted  white,  and  a  standard  work- 
basket  of  dainty  white  and  green  wicker,  com- 
pletely furnished  with  sewing  materials.  In  the 
other  bay  window  was  a  dear  little  writing-desk 
of  bird's-eye  maple,  and  a  wicker  chair  in  front 
of  it.  The  desk  was  open,  and  Marjorie  could 
see  all  sorts  of  pens  and  pencils  and  paper  in  fas- 
cinating array. 

But  these  were  only  a  few  of  the  surprises.    The 


32  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

whole  room  had  been  redecorated,  and  the  walls 
were  papered  with  a  design  of  yellow  daffodils  in 
little  bunches  tied  with  pale  green  ribbon.  The 
woodwork  was  all  painted  white,  and  entirely 
around  the  room,  at  just  about  the  height  of 
Marjorie's  chin,  ran  a  broad  white  shelf.  Of 
course  this  shelf  stopped  for  the  windows  and 
doors,  but  the  room  was  large,  and  there  was  a 
great  deal  of  space  left  for  the  shelf.  But  it  was 
the  things  on  the  shelf  that  attracted  Marjorie's 
attention.  One  side  of  the  room  was  devoted  to 
books,  and  Marjorie  quickly  recognized  many  of 
her  old  favorites,  and  many  new  ones.  On  an- 
other side  of  the  room  the  shelf  was  filled  with 
flowers,  some  blooming  gayly  in  pots,  and  some 
cut  blossoms  in  vases  of  water.  On  a  third  side  of 
the  room  the  shelf  held  birds,  and  this  sight  nearly 
took  Marjorie's  breath  away.  Some  were  in  gilt 
cages,  a  canary,  a  goldfinch,  and  another  bird 
whose  name  Marjorie  did  not  know.  And  some 
were  stuffed  birds  of  brilliant  plumage,  and 
mounted  in  most  natural  positions  on  twigs  or 
branches,  or  perched  upon  an  ivy  vine  which  was 


ON  THE  ROOF  33 

trained  along  the  wall.  The  fourth  side  was  al- 
most empty,  and  Marjorie  knew  at  once  that  it 
was  left  so  in  order  that  she  might  have  a  place 
for  such  treasured  belongings  as  she  had  brought 
with  her. 

"Well!"  she  exclaimed,  although  there  was  no 
one  there  to  hear  her.  "Well,  if  this  isn't  the  best 
ever!"  She  stood  in  the  middle  of  the  room,  and 
turned  slowly  round  and  round,  taking  in  by  de- 
grees the  furnishings  and  adornment.  All  of  the 
furniture  was  new,  and  the  brass  bed  and  dainty 
dressing-table  seemed  to  Marjorie  quite  fit  for  any 
princess. 

"Well !"  she  exclaimed  again,  and  as  she  turned 
around  this  time  she  saw  the  older  people  watching 
her  from  the  hall. 

"Oh,  Grandma  Sherwood!"  she  cried,  and  run- 
ning to  the  old  lady,  proceeded  to  hug  her  in  a 
way  that  was  more  affectionate  than  comfort- 
able. 

"Do  you  like  it?"  asked  Grandma,  when  she 
could  catch  her  breath. 

"Like    it!     It's    the    most   beautiful,    loveliest. 


34  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

sweetest  room  in  the  whole  world !  I  love  it !  Did 
you  do  it  all  for  me,  Grandma?" 

"Yes,  Midget ;  that  is,  I  fixed  up  the  room,  but 
for  the  shelf  you  must  thank  Uncle  Steve.  That 
is  his  idea  entirely,  and  he  superintended  its  put- 
ting up.  You're  to  use  it  this  year,  and  next  year 
Kitty  can  have  her  dolls  and  toys  on  it,  and  then 
the  year  after,  King  can  use  it  for  his  fishing- 
tackle  and  boyish  traps.  Though  I  suppose  by 
that  time  Rosamond  will  be  old  enough  to  take 
her  turn." 

"Then  I  can't  come  again  for  four  years," 
exclaimed  Marjorie,  with  an  expression  of  con- 
sternation on  her  face. 

"Not  unless  you  come  two  at  a  time,"  said 
Grandma ;  "and  I  doubt  if  your  mother  would  con- 
sent to  that." 

"No,  indeed,"  said  Mrs.  Maynard;  "it's  hard 
enough  to  lose  one  of  the  flock,  without  losing 
two." 

"Well,  I'll  have  a  good  time  with  it  this  summer, 
anyway,"  said  Marjorie;  "can't  we  unpack  my 
trunk  now,  Mother,  so  I  can  put  my  pearl  pen 


ON  THE  ROOF  35 

in  my  desk;  and  my  clock,  that  Rosy  Posy  gave 
me,  on  the  shelf;  and  hang  up  my  bird  picture  on 
the  wall?" 

"Not  just  now,"  said  her  mother,  "for  it  is 
nearly  supper  time,  and  you  must  transform  your- 
self from  a  wild  maid  of  the  woods  into  a  decorous 
little  lady." 

The  transformation  was  accomplished,  and  it 
was  not  very  long  before  a  very  neat  and  tidy  Mar- 
jorie  walked  sedately  downstairs  to  the  dining- 
room.  Her  white  dress  was  immaculate;  a  big 
white  bow  held  the  dark  curls  in  place,  and  only 
the  dancing  eyes  betrayed  the  fact  that  it  was 
an  effort  to  behave  so  demurely. 

"Well,  Midget,"  said  Uncle  Steve,  as  they  were 
seated  at  the  supper  table,  "does  the  old  place 
look  the  same?" 

"No,  indeed,  Uncle:  there  are  lots  of  changes, 
but  best  of  all  is  my  beauty  room.  I  never  saw 
anything  so  lovely;  I  just  want  to  stay  up  there 
all  the  time." 

"I  thought  you'd  like  that  shelf.  Now  you 
have  room  for  all  the  thousand  and  one  bits 


36  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

of  rubbish  that  you  accumulate  through  the 
summer." 

"'Tisn't  rubbish!"  exclaimed  Marjorie,  indig- 
nantly; "it's  dear  little  birds'  nests,  and  queer 
kinds  of  rocks,  and  branches  of  strange  trees  and 
grasses  and  things." 

"Well,  I  only  meant  it  sounds  to  me  like  rub- 
bish," said  Uncle  Steve,  who  loved  to  tease  her 
about  her  enthusiasms. 

But  she  only  smiled  good-naturedly,  for  she 
well  knew  that  Uncle  Steve  was  the  very  one  who 
would  take  her  for  long  walks  in  the  woods,  on 
purpose  to  gather  this  very  "rubbish." 

The  next  day  Marjorie  was  up  bright  and  early, 
quite  ready  for  any  pleasure  that  might  offer 
itself. 

Her  mother  went  back  home  that  day,  and 
though  Marjorie  felt  a  little  sad  at  parting,  yet, 
after  all,  Grandma  Sherwood's  house  was  like  a 
second  home,  and  there  was  too  much  novelty  and 
entertainment  all  about  to  allow  time  for  feeling 
sad. 

Moreover,  Marjorie  was  of  a  merry,  happy  dis- 


ON  THE  ROOF  37 

position.  It  was  natural  to  her  to  make  the  best 
of  everything,  and  even  had  she  had  reasons  for 
being  truly  miserable,  she  would  have  tried  to  be 
happy  in  spite  of  them. 

So  she  bade  her  mother  good-by,  and  sent  loving 
messages  to  all  at  home,  and  promised  to  write 
often. 

"Remember,"  said  her  mother,  as  a  parting  in- 
junction, "to  read  every  morning  the  list  I  gave 
you,  which  includes  all  my  commands  for  the 
summer.  When  I  see  you  again  I  shall  expect 
you  to  tell  me  that  you  obeyed  them  all." 

"I  will  try,"  said  Marjorie;  "but  if  it  is  a  long 
list  I  may  forget  some  of  them  sometimes.  You 
know,  Mother,  I  am  forgetful." 

"You  are,  indeed,"  said  Mrs.  Maynard,  smil- 
ing; "but  if  you'll  try  I  think  you'll  succeed,  at 
least  fairly  well.  Good-by  now,  dear;  I  must 
be  off;  and  do  you  go  at  once  to  your  room 
and  read  over  the  list  so  as  to  start  the  day 
right." 

"I  will,"  said  Marjorie,  and  as  soon  as  she  had 
waved  a  last  good-by,  and  the  carriage  had  dis- 


38  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

appeared  from  view,  she  ran  to  her  room,  and 
sitting  down  at  her  pretty  desk,  unfolded  the  list 
her  mother  had  given  her. 

To  her  great  surprise,  instead  of  the  long  list 
she  had  expected  to  find,  there  were  only  two 
items.  The  first  was,  "Keep  your  hands  clean, 
and  your  hair  tidy";  and  the  other  read,  "Obey 
Grandma  implicitly." 

"Well,"  thought  Marjorie  to  herself,  "I  can 
easily  manage  those  two!  And  yet,"  she  thought 
further,  with  a  little  sigh,  "they're  awfully  hard 
ones.  My  hands  just  won't  keep  clean,  and  my 
hair  ribbon  is  forever  coming  off!  And  of  course 
I  mean  to  obey  Grandma  always ;  but  sometimes 
she's  awful  strict,  and  sometimes  I  forget  what 
she  told  me." 

But  with  a  firm  resolve  in  her  heart  to  do  her 
best,  Marjorie  went  downstairs,  and  went  out  to 
play  in  the  garden. 

Some  time  later  she  saw  a  girl  of  about  her 
own  age  coming  down  the  path  toward  her. 
She  was  a  strange-looking  child,  with  a  very  white 
face,  snapping  black  eyes,  and  straight  wirj  black 


ON  THE  ROOF  39 

hair,  braided  in  two  little  braids,  which  stood  out 
straight  from  her  head. 

"Are  you  Marjorie?"  she  said,  in  a  thin,  piping 
voice.  "I'm  Molly  Moss,  and  I've  come  to  play 
with  you.  I  used  to  know  Kitty." 

"Yes,"  said  Marjorie,  pleasantly,  "I'm  Mar- 
jorie, and  I'm  Kitty's  sister.  I'm  glad  you  came. 
Is  that  your  kitten?" 

"Yes,"  said  Molly,  as  she  held  up  a  very  small 
black  kitten,  which  was  indeed  an  insignificant 
specimen  compared  to  the  Persian  beauty  hang- 
ing over  Marjorie's  arm. 

"It's  a  dear  kitten,"  Molly  went  on.  "Her  name 
is  Blackberry.  Don't  you  like  her?" 

"Yes,"  said  Marjorie,  a  little  doubtfully;  "per- 
haps she  can  be  company  for  Puff.  This  is  my 
Puff."  Marjorie  held  up  her  cat,  but  the  two 
animals  showed  very  little  interest  in  one  an- 
other. 

"Let's  put  them  to  sleep  somewhere,"  said 
Molly,  "and  then  go  and  play  in  the  loft." 

The  kittens  were  soon  deposited  in  the  warm 
kitchen,  and  the  two  girls  ran  back  to  the  barn 


40  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

for  a  good  play.  Marjorie  had  already  begun  to 
like  Molly,  though  she  seemed  rather  queer  at 
first,  but  after  they  had  climbed  the  ladder  to 
the  warm  sweet-smelling  hay-loft,  they  grew  better 
acquainted,  and  were  soon  chattering  away  like 
old  friends. 

Molly  was  not  at  all  like  Stella  Martin. 
Far  from  being  timid,  she  was  recklessly  dar- 
ing, and  very  ingenious  in  the  devising  of  mis- 
chief. 

"I'll  tell  you  what,  Mopsy,"  she  said,  having 
already  adopted  Marjorie's  nickname,  "let's  climb 
out  of  the  window,  that  skylight  window,  I  mean, 
onto  the  roof  of  the  barn,  and  slide  down.  It's 
a  lovely  long  slide." 

"We'll  slide  off!"  exclaimed  Marjorie,  aghast 
at  this  proposition. 

"Oh,  no,  we  won't;  there's  a  ledge  at  the  edge 
of  the  roof,  and  your  heels  catch  that,  and  that 
stops  you.  You  can't  go  any  further." 

"How  do  you  get  back?" 

"Why,  scramble  back  up  the  roof,  you  know. 
Come  on,  it's  lots  of  fun." 


ON  THE  ROOF  41 

"I  don't  believe  Grandma  would  like  it,"  said 
Marjorie,  a  little  doubtfully. 

"Oh,  pshaw,  you're  afraid;  there's  no  danger. 
Come  on  and  try  it,  anyhow." 

Now  Marjorie  did  not  like  to  be  called  afraid, 
for  she  really  had  very  little  fear  in  her  disposi- 
tion. So  she  said:  "Well,  I'll  go  up  the  ladder 
and  look  out,  and  if  it  looks  dangerous  I  won't 
do  it," 

"Not  a  bit  of  danger,"  declared  Molly.  "I'll  go 
up  first." 

Agile  as  a  sprite,  Molly  quickly  skipped  up 
the  ladder,  and  opened  the  trap-door  in  the  barn 
roof.  Sticking  her  head  up  through,  she  soon 
drew  her  thin  little  body  up  after  it  and  called  to 
Marjorie  to  follow.  Marjorie  was  a  much  heavier 
child,  but  she  sturdily  climbed  the  ladder,  and  then 
with  some  difficulty  clambered  out  on  the  roof. 

"Isn't  it  gay?"  cried  Molly,  and  exhilarated  by 
the  lofty  height,  the  novel  position,  and  the  excite- 
ment of  the  moment,  Marjorie  thought  it  was. 

"Now,"  went  on  Molly,  by  way  of  instruction, 
"sit  down  beside  me  right  here  at  the  top.  Hang 


4*  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

on  with  your  hands  until  I  count  three  and 
then  let  go,  and  we'll  slide  straight  down  the 
roof." 

Marjorie  obeyed  directions,  and  sat  waiting 
with  a  delightful  feeling  of  expectancy. 

"One,  two,  three!"  counted  Molly,  and  at  the 
last  word  the  two  girls  let  go  their  grasp  and 
slid. 

Swiftly  and  lightly  the  slender  little  Molly 
slid  to  the  gutter  of  the  eaves  of  the  roof,  caught 
by  her  heels,  and  stopped  suddenly,  leaning 
against  the  slanted  roof,  comfortably  at  her  ease. 

Not  so  Marjorie.  She  came  swiftly  down,  and, 
all  unaccustomed  to  motion  of  this  sort,  her  feet 
struck  the  gutter,  her  solid  little  body  bounced 
up  into  the  air,  and  instead  of  falling  backward 
again,  she  gave  a  frightened  convulsive  move- 
ment, and  fell  headlong  to  the  ground. 

Quick  as  a  flash,  Molly,  when  she  saw  what 
had  happened,  scrambled  back  up  the  roof  with 
a  wonderful  agility,  and  let  herself  down  through 
the  skylight,  and  down  the  ladder  like  lightning. 
She  rushed  out  of  the  barn,  to  where  Marjorie  lay, 


ON  THE  ROOF  43 

and  reached  her  before  Carter  did,  though  he 
came  running  at  the  first  sounds  of  Marjorie's 
screams. 

"I'm  not  hurt  much,"  said  Marjorie,  trying  to 
be  brave ;  "if  you'll  help  me,  Carter,  I  think  I  can 
walk  to  the  house." 

"Walk  nothin',"  growled  Carter;  "it's  Miss 
Mischief  you  are  for  sure!  I  thought  you  had 
outgrown  your  wild  ways,  but  you're  just  as  bad 
as  ever !  What'll  your  grandma  say  ?" 

Molly  stood  by,  decidedly  scared.  She  didn't 
know  how  badly  Marjorie  was  hurt,  and  she 
longed  to  comfort  her,  and  tell  her  how  sorry  she 
was  that  she  had  urged  her  to  this  mischief,  but 
Carter  gave  her  no  opportunity  to  speak.  In- 
deed, it  was  all  she  could  do  to  keep  up  with  the 
gardener's  long  strides,  as  he  carried  Marjorie 
to  the  house.  But  Molly  was  no  coward,  and  she 
bravely  determined  to  go  to  the  house  with  them, 
and  confess  to  Mrs.  Sherwood  that  she  was  to 
blame  for  the  accident. 

But  when  they  reached  the  door,  and  Grandma 
Sherwood  came  out  to  meet  them,  she  was  so 


44  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

anxious  and  worried  about  Marjorie  that  she  paid 
little  attention  to  Molly's  efforts  at  explanation. 

"What  are  you  trying  to  say,  child?"  she  asked 
hastily  of  Molly,  who  was  stammering  out  an 
incoherent  speech.  "Well,  never  mind;  whatever 
you  have  to  say,  I  don't  want  to  hear  it  now.  You 
run  right  straight  home ;  and  if  you  want  to  come 
over  to-morrow  to  see  how  Marjorie  is,  you  may, 
but  I  can't  have  you  bothering  around  here  new. 
So  run  home." 

And  Molly  ran  ho«c. 


CHAPTER  IV 

A    PAPEE-DOLL    HOUSE 

THE  result  of  Marjorie's  fall  from  the  roof  was 
a  sprained  ankle.  It  wasn't  a  bad  sprain,  but 
the  doctor  said  she  must  stay  in  bed  for  several 
days. 

"But  I  don't  mind  very  much,"  said  Marjorie, 
who  persisted  in  looking  on  the  bright  side  of 
everything,  "for  it  will  give  me  a  chance  to  enjoy 
this  beautiful  room  better.  But,  Grandma,  I 
can't  quite  make  out  whether  I  was  disobedient 
or  not.  You  never  told  me  not  to  slide  down  the 
roof,  did  you?" 

"No,  Marjorie;  but  your  common-sense  ought 
to  have  told  you  that.  I  should  have  forbidden  it 
if  I  had  thought  there  was  the  slightest  danger 
of  your  doing  such  a  thing.  You  really  ought 
to  have  known  better." 

46 


46 

Grandma's  tone  was  severe,  for  though  she  was 
sorry  for  the  child  she  felt  that  Marjorie  had 
done  wrong,  and  ought  to  be  reproved. 

Marjorie's  brow  wrinkled  in  her  efforts  to  think 
out  the  matter. 

"Grandma,"  she  said,  "then  must  I  obey  every 
rule  that  you  would  make  if  you  thought  of  it, 
and  how  shall  I  know  what  they  are?" 

Grandma  smiled.  "As  I  tell  you  Midget,  you 
must  use  your  common-sense  and  reason  in  such 
matters.  If  you  make  mistakes  the  experience 
will  help  you  to  learn;  but  I  am  sure  a  child 
twelve  years  old  ought  to  know  better  than  to 
slide  down  a  steep  barn  roof.  But  I  suppose  Molly 
put  you  up  to  it,  and  so  it  wasn't  your  fault 
exactly." 

"Molly  did  suggest  it,  Grandma,  but  that  does- 
n't make  her  the  one  to  blame,  for  I  didn't  have  to 
do  as  she  said,  did  I?" 

"No,  Midge ;  and  Molly  has  behaved  very  nicely 
about  it.  She  came  over  here,  and  confessed  that 
she  had  been  the  ringleader  in  the  mischief,  and 
said  she  was  sorry  for  it.  So  you  were  both  to 


A  PAPER-DOLL  HOUSE  47 

blame,  but  I  think  it  has  taught  you  a  lesson, 
and  I  don't  believe  you'll  ever  cut  up  that  particu- 
lar trick  again.  But  you  certainly  needn't  be  pun- 
ished for  it,  for  I  think  the  consequences  of  hav- 
ing to  stay  in  bed  for  nearly  a  week  will  be  pun- 
ishment enough.  So  now  we're  through  with  that 
part  of  the  subject,  and  I'm  going  to  do  all  I  can 
to  make  your  imprisonment  as  easy  for  you  as 
possible." 

It  was  in  the  early  morning  that  this  conversa- 
tion had  taken  place,  and  Grandma  had  brought 
a  basin  of  fresh,  cool  water  and  bathed  the  little 
girl's  face  and  hands,  and  had  brushed  out  her 
curls  and  tied  them  up  with  a  pretty  pink  bow. 

Then  Jane  came  with  a  dainty  tray,  containing 
just  the  things  Marjorie  liked  best  for  breakfast, 
and  adorned  with  a  spray  of  fresh  roses.  Grand- 
ma drew  a  table  to  the  bedside  and  piled  pillows 
behind  Marjorie's  back  until  she  was  quite  com- 
fortable. 

"I  feel  like  a  queen,  Grandma,"  she  said;  "if 
this  is  what  you  call  punishment  I  don't  mind  it 
a  bit." 


48  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

"That's  all  very  well  for  one  day,  but  wait  until 
you  have  been  here  four  or  five  days.  You'll  get 
tired  of  playing  queen  by  that  time." 

"Well,  it's  fun  now,  anyway,"  said  Marjorie,  as 
she  ate  strawberries  and  cream  with  great  relish. 

After  breakfast  Jane  tidied  up  the  room,  and 
Marjorie,  arrayed  in  a  little  pink  kimono,  pre- 
pared to  spend  the  day  in  bed.  Grandma  brought 
her  books  to  read  and  writing  materials  to  write 
letters  home,  and  Marjorie  assured  her  that  she 
could  occupy  herself  pleasantly. 

So  Grandma  went  away  and  left  her  alone.  The 
first  thing  Marjorie  did  was  to  write  a  letter  to  her 
mother,  telling  her  all  about  the  accident.  She 
had  thought  she  would  write  a  letter  to  each  of 
the  children  at  home,  but  she  discovered  to  her 
surprise  that  it  wasn't  very  easy  to  write  sitting 
up  in  bed.  Her  arms  became  cramped,  and  as 
she  could  not  move  her  injured  ankle  her  whole 
body  grew  stiff  and  uncomfortable.  So  she  de- 
cided to  read.  After  she  had  read  what  seemed  a 
long  time,  she  found  that  that,  too,  was  difficult 
under  the  circumstances.  With  a  little  sigh  she 


A  PAPER-DOLL  HOUSE  49 

turned  herself  as  well  as  she  could  and  looked  at 
the  clock.  To  her  amazement,  only  an  hour  had 
elapsed  since  Grandma  left  her,  and  for  the  first 
time  the  little  girl  realized  what  it  meant  to  be 
deprived  of  the  free  use  of  her  limbs. 

"Only  ten  o'clock,"  she  thought  to  herself; 
"and  dinner  isn't  until  one!" 

Not  that  Marjorie  was  hungry,  but  like  all  the 
invalids  she  looked  forward  to  meal-times  as  a 
pleasant  diversion. 

But  about  this  time  Grandma  reappeared  to 
say  that  Molly  had  come  over  to  see  her. 

Marjorie  was  delighted,  and  welcomed  Molly 
gladly. 

"I'm  awful  sorry,"  the  little  visitor  began, 
"that  I  made  you  slide  down  the  roof." 

"You  didn't  make  me  do  it,"  said  Marjorie, 
"it  was  my  fault  quite  as  much  as  yours;  and, 
anyway,  it  isn't  a  very  bad  sprain.  I'll  be  out 
again  in  a  few  days,  and  then  we  can  play  some 
more.  But  we'll  keep  down  on  the  ground, — we 
can't  fall  off  of  that." 

"I  thought  you  might  like  to  play  some  games 


50  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

this  morning,"  Molly  suggested,  "so  I  brought 
over  my  jackstraws  and  my  Parcheesi  board." 

"Splendid!"  cried  Marjorie,  delighted  to  have 
new  entertainment. 

In  a  few  moments  Molly  had  whisked  things 
about,  and  arranged  the  jackstraws  on  a  small 
table  near  the  bed.  But  Marjorie  could  not  reach 
them  very  well,  so  Molly  changed  her  plan. 

"I'll  fix  it,"  she  said,  and  laying  the  Parcheesi 
board  on  the  bed,  she  climbed  up  herself,  and  sit- 
ting cross-legged  like  a  little  Turk,  she  tossed  the 
jackstraws  out  on  the  flat  b»ard,  and  the  game 
began  in  earnest. 

They  had  a  jolly  time  and  followed  the  jack- 
straws  with  a  game  of  Parcheesi. 

Then  Jane  came  up  with  some  freshly  baked 
cookies  and  two  glasses  of  milk. 

"Why,  how  the  time  has  flown!"  cried  Mar- 
jorie, "it's  half -past  eleven,  and  it  doesn't  seem 
as  if  you'd  been  here  more  than  five  minutes, 
Molly." 

"I  didn't  think  it  was  so  late,  either,"  and  then 
the  two  girls  did  full  justice  to  the  little  luncheon, 


A  PAPER-DOLL  HOUSE  51 

while  the  all-useful  Parchcesi  board  served  as  a 
table. 

"Now,"  said  Marjorie,  when  the  last  crumbs 
had  disappeared,  "let's  mix  up  the  two  games. 
The  jackstraws  will  be  people,  and  your  family 
can  live  in  that  corner  of  the  Parcheesi  board, 
and  mine  will  live  in  this.  The  other  two  corners 
will  be  strangers'  houses,  and  the  red  counters 
can  live  in  one  and  the  blue  counters  in  the  other. 
This  place  in  the  middle  will  be  a  park,  and  these 
dice  can  be  deer  in  the  park." 

"Oh,  what  fun!"  cried  Molly,  who  was  not  as 
ingenious  as  Marjorie  at  making  up  games,  but 
who  was  appreciative  enough  to  enter  into  the 
spirit  of  it  at  once. 

They  became  so  absorbed  in  this  new  sort  of 
play  that  again  the  time  flew  and  it  was  dinner- 
time before  they  knew  it. 

Grandma  did  not  invite  Molly  to  stay  to  dinner, 
for  she  thought  Marjorie  ought  to  rest,  but  she 
asked  the  little  neighbor  to  come  again  the  next 
morning  and  continue  their  game. 

After  dinner  Grandma  darkened  the  room  and 


52  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

left  Marjorie  to  rest  by  herself,  and  the  result 
of  this  was  a  long  and  refreshing  nap. 

When  she  awoke,  Grandma  appeared  again  with 
fresh  water  and  towels,  and  her  afternoon  toilet 
was  made.  Marjorie  laughed  to  think  that  dress- 
ing for  afternoon  meant  only  putting  on  a  differ- 
ent kimono,  for  dresses  were  not  to  be  thought  of 
with  a  sprained  ankle. 

And  then  Uncle  Steve  came  in. 

Uncle  Steve  was  always  like  a  ray  of  sunshine, 
but  he  seemed  especially  bright  and  cheery  just 
now. 

"Well,  Midget  Mops,"  he  said,  "you  have  cut 
up  a  pretty  trick,  haven't  you?  Here,  just  as  I 
wanted  to  take  you  driving,  and  walking  in  the 
woods,  and  boating,  and  fishing,  and  perhaps  bal- 
looning, and  airshipping,  and  maybe  skating,  here 
you  go  and  get  yourself  laid  up  so  you  can't 
do  anything  but  eat  and  sleep!  You're  a  nice 
Midget,  you  are!  What's  the  use  of  having  an 
Uncle  Steve  if  you  can't  play  with  him?" 

"Just  you  wait,"  cried  Marjorie;  "I'm  not  go- 
ing to  be  in  bed  more  than  a  few  days,  and  I'm 


A  PAPER-DOLL  HOUSE  53 

going  to  stay  here  all  summer.  There'll  be  plenty 
of  time  for  your  fishing  and  skating  yet." 

"But  unless  I  get  you  pretty  soon,  I'll  pine 
away  with  grief.  And  everybody  out  on  the  farm 
is  lonesome  for  you.  The  horses,  Ned  and  Dick, 
had  made  up  their  minds  to  take  you  on  long 
drives  along  the  mountain  roads  where  the  wild 
flowers  bloom.  They  can't  understand  why  you 
don't  come  out,  and  they  stand  in  their  stalls 
weeping,  with  great  tears  rolling  down  their 
cheeks." 

Marjorie  laughed  gayly  at  Uncle  Steve's  fool- 
ery, and  said :  "If  they're  weeping  so  you'd  better 
take  them  some  of  my  pocket  handkerchiefs." 

"Too  small,"  said  Uncle  Steve,  scornfully ;  "one 
of  your  little  handkerchiefs  would  get  lost  in 
Dick's  eye  or  Ned's  ear.  And  old  Betsy  is  weep- 
ing for  you  too.  Really,  you'll  have  to  get  around 
soon,  or  those  three  horses  will  run  away,  I  fear." 

"What  about  the  cow ;  does  she  miss  me  ?"  asked 
Marjorie,  gravely,  though  her  eyes  were  twin- 
kling. 

"The  cow !"  exclaimed  Uncle  Steve.  "She  stands 


54  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

by  the  fence  with  her  head  on  the  top  rail,  and 
moos  so  loud  that  I  should  think  you  could  hear 
her  yourself.  She  calls  'Mopsy,  Mopsy,  Moo,' 
from  morning  till  night.  And  the  chickens  !  Well, 
the  incubator  is  full  of  desolate  chickens.  They 
won't  eat  their  meal,  and  they  just  peep  mourn- 
fully, and  stretch  their  little  wings  trying  to  fly 
to  you." 

"And  the  dogs?"  prompted  Marjorie. 

"Oh,  the  dogs — they  howl  and  yowl  and  growl 
all  the  time.  I  think  I'll  have  to  bring  the  whole 
crowd  of  animals  up  here.  They're  so  anxious 
to  see  you." 

"Do,  Uncle  Steve.  I'd  be  glad  to  see  them,  and 
I'm  sure  they'd  behave  nicely." 

"I  think  so.  The  cow  could  sit  in  that  little 
rocking-chair,  and  the  three  horses  could  sit  on 
the  couch,  side  by  side.  And  then  we  could  all 
have  afternoon  tea." 

Marjorie  shook  with  laughter  at  the  thought 
of  the  cow  sitting  up  and  drinking  afternoon  tea, 
until  Uncle  Steve  declared  that  if  she  laughed  so 
hard  she'd  sprain  her  other  ankle.  So  he  said  he 


A  PAPER-DOLL  HOUSE  55 

would  read  to  her,  and  selecting  a  book  of  fairy 
tales,  he  read  aloud  all  the  rest  of  the  afternoon. 
It  was  delightful  to  hear  Uncle  Steve  read,  for 
he  would  stop  now  and  then  to  discuss  the  story, 
or  he  would  put  in  some  funny  little  jokes  of  his 
own,  and  he  made  it  all  so  amusing  and  enter- 
taining that  the  afternoon  flew  by  as  if  on  wings. 

Then  Jane  came  again  with  the  pretty  tray  of 
supper,  and  after  that  Grandma  and  Marjorie 
had  a  nice  little  twilight  talk,  and  then  the  little 
girl  was  tucked  up  for  the  night,  and  soon  fell 
asleep. 

When  she  woke  the  next  morning  and  lay 
quietly  in  bed  thinking  over  of  the  events  of  the 
day  before,  she  came  to  the  conclusion  that  every- 
body had  been  very  kind  to  her,  but  that  she 
couldn't  expect  so  much  attention  every  day.  So 
she  made  up  her  mind  that  when  she  had  to  spend 
hours  alone,  she  would  try  to  be  good  and  patient 
and  not  trouble  Grandma  more  than  she  could 
help. 

Then  she  thought  of  the  written  list  her  mother 
had  given  her.  She  smiled  to  think  how  easy  it 


56  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

was  now  to  keep  those  commands.  "Of  course," 
she  thought,  "I  can  keep  my  hands  clean  and  my 
hair  tidy  here,  for  Grandma  looks  after  that  her- 
self; and,  of  course,  I  can't  help  obeying  her 
while  I'm  here,  for  she  doesn't  command  me  to  do 
anything,  and  I  couldn't  do  it  if  she  did." 

Molly  came  again  that  morning,  and  as  Grand- 
ma had  asked  her  to  stay  to  dinner  with  Marjorie, 
the  girls  prepared  for  a  good  morning's  play. 

It  was  astonishing  how  many  lovely  things  there 
were  to  play,  even  when  one  of  the  players  couldn't 
move  about. 

Molly  had  brought  over  her  paper-doll's  house, 
and  as  it  was  quite  different  from  anything  Mar- 
jorie had  ever  seen  before,  she  wondered  if  she 
couldn't  make  one  for  herself,  and  so  double  the 
fun  of  tJie  game. 

Grandma  was  consulted,  but  it  was  Uncle  Steve 
who  brought  them  the  necessary  materials  to 
carry  out  their  plan. 

A  paper-doll's  house  is  quite  different  from  the 
other  kind  of  a  doll's  house,  and  Molly's  was  made 
of  a  large  blankbook. 


A  PAPER-DOLL  HOUSE  57 

So  Uncle  Steve  brought  a  blankbook  almost 
exactly  like  it  for  Marjorie,  and  then  he  brought 
her  scissors,  and  paste,  and  several  catalogues 
which  had  come  from  the  great  shops  in  the  city. 
He  brought,  too,  a  pile  of  magazines  and  papers, 
which  were  crammed  full  of  illustrated  advertise- 
ments. 

The  two  little  girls  set  busily  to  work,  and  soon 
they  had  cut  out  a  quantity  of  chairs,  tables, 
beds,  and  furniture  of  all  sorts  from  the  pictured 
pages. 

These  they  pasted  in  the  book.  Each  page  was 
a  room,  and  in  the  room  were  arranged  appropri- 
ate furniture  and  ornaments. 

The  parlor  had  beautiful  and  elaborate  furni- 
ture, rugs,  pictures,  bric-a-brac,  and  even  lace 
curtains  at  the  windows.  The  library  had  beauti- 
ful bookcases,  writing-desk,  reading-table  and  a 
lamp,  easy-chairs,  and  everything  that  belongs  in 
a  well-ordered  library. 

The  dining-room  was  fully  furnished,  and  the 
kitchen  contained  everything  necessary  to  the  sat- 
isfaction of  the  most  exacting  cook. 


58  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

The  bedrooms  were  beautiful  with  dainty  brass 
beds,  chintz-covered  furniture,  and  dressing- 
tables  fitted  out  with  all  sorts  of  toilet  equipments. 

All  of  these  things  were  found  in  the  catalogues 
and  the  magazine  advertisements ;  and  in  addi- 
tion to  the  rooms  mentioned^  there  were  halls,  a 
nursery,  playroom,  and  pleasant  verandas  fitted 
up  with  hammocks  and  porch  furniture. 

Of  course  it  required  some  imagination  to  think 
that  these  rooms  were  in  the  shape  of  a  house, 
and  not  just  leaves  of  a  book,  but  both  Midge 
and  Molly  had  plenty  of  imagination,  and  besides 
it  was  very  practical  fun  to  cut  out  the  things, 
and  arrange  them  in  their  places.  Sometimes  it 
was  necessary  to  use  a  pencil  to  draw  in  any 
necessary  article  that  might  be  missing;  but  usu- 
ally everything  desired  could  be  found,  from 
potted  palms  to  a  baby  carriage. 

Marjorie  grew  absorbed  in  the  work,  for  she 
dearly  loved  to  make  things,  and  her  ingenuity 
suggested  many  improvements  on  Molly's  orig- 
inal house. 


CHAPTER  V 

SOME    INTEEESTING    LETTEES 

THE  family  for  the  paper-doll  house  was  selected 
from  the  catalogues  that  illustrate  ready-made 
clothing.  Beautiful  gentlemen  were  cut  out, 
dressed  in  the  most  approved  fashions  for  men. 
Charming  ladies  with  trailing  skirts  and  elabo- 
rate hats  were  found  in  plenty.  And  children  of 
all  ages  were  so  numerous  in  the  prints  that  it 
was  almost  difficult  to  make  a  selection.  Then,  too, 
extra  hats  and  wraps  and  parasols  were  cut  out, 
which  could  be  neatly  put  away  in  the  cupboards 
and  wardrobes  which  were  in  the  house.  For 
Marjorie  had  discovered  that  by  pasting  only  the 
edges  of  the  wardrobe  and  carefully  cutting  the 
doors  apart,  they  could  be  made  to  open  and  shut 
beautifully. 

Uncle   Stere   became   very   much  interested  in 
59 


60  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

these  wonderful  houses,  and  ransacked  his  own 
library  for  pictures  to  be  cut  up. 

Indeed,  so  elaborate  did  the  houses  grow 
to  be,  Molly's  being  greatly  enlarged  and  im- 
proved, that  they  could  not  be  finished  in  one 
morning. 

But  Grandma  was  not  willing  to  let  Marjorie 
work  steadily  at  this  occupation  all  day,  and  after 
dinner  Molly  was  sent  home,  and  the  paper  dolls 
put  away  until  the  next  day. 

"But  I'm  not  ill.  Grandma,"  said  Marjorie; 
"just  having  a  sprained  ankle  doesn't  make  me 
a,  really,  truly  invalid." 

"No,  but  you  must  rest,  or  you  will  get  ill. 
Fever  may  set  in,  and  if  you  get  over-excited  with 
your  play,  and  have  no  exercise,  you  may  be  in 
bed  longer  than  you  think  for.  Besides,  I  think 
I  remember  having  heard  something  about  im- 
plicit obedience,  and  so  I  expect  it  now  as  well  as 
when  you're  up  on  your  two  feet." 

"I  don't  think  I  can  help  obeying,"  said  Mar- 
jorie, roguishly,  "for  I  can't  very  well  do  any- 
thing else.  But  I  suppose  you  mean  obey  with- 


61 

out  fretting;  so  I  will,  for  you  are  a  dear,  good 
Grandma  and  awfully  kind  to  me." 

With  a  parting  pat  on  her  shoulder,  Grandma 
left  the  little  girl  for  her  afternoon  nap,  and 
Marjorie  would  have  been  surprised  at  herself 
had  she  known  how  quickly  she  fell  asleep. 

Uncle  Steve  made  it  a  habit  to  entertain  her 
during  the  later  hours  of  each  afternoon,  and, 
although  they  were  already  great  chums,  his  gay- 
ety  and  kindness  made  Marjorie  more  than  ever 
devoted  to  her  uncle. 

This  afternoon  he  came  in  with  a  handful  of 
letters. 

"These  are  all  for  you,"  he  said;  "it  is  aston- 
ishing what  a  large  correspondence  you  have." 

Marjorie  was  amazed.  She  took  the  budget  of 
letters  her  uncle  handed  her  and  counted  five. 
They  were  all  duly  stamped,  and  all  were  post- 
marked, but  the  postmarks  all  read  Haslemere. 

"How  funny!"  exclaimed  Marjorie;  "I  didn't 
know  there  was  a  post  office  at  Haslemere." 

"You  didn't!"  jexclaimed  Uncle  Steve;  "why, 
there  certainly  is.  Do  you  mean  to  say  that  you 


62 

don't  know  that  there's  a  little  post  office  in  the 
lowest  branch  of  that  old  maple-tree  down  by  the 
brook?" 

"You  mean  just  where  the  path  turns  to  go  to 
the  garden?" 

"That's  the  very  spot.  Only  this  morning  I 
was  walking  by  there,  and  I  saw  a  small  post  office 
in  the  tree.  There  was  a  key  in  the  door  of  it, 
and  being  curious,  I  opened  it,  and  looked  in. 
There  I  saw  five  letters  for  you,  and  as  you're 
not  walking  much  this  summer,  I  thought  I'd 
bring  them  to  you.  I  brought  the  key,  too." 

As  he  finished  speaking,  Uncle  Steve  drew  from 
his  pocket  a  little  bright  key  hung  on  a  blue  rib- 
bon, which  he  gravely  presented  to  Marjorie.  Her 
eyes  danced  as  she  took  it,  for  she  now  believed 
there  was  really  a  post  office  there,  though  it  was 
sometimes  difficult  to  distinguish  Uncle  Steve's 
nonsense  from  the  truth. 

"Now  I'm  more  than  ever  anxious  to  get  well," 
she  cried,  "and  go  out  to  see  that  post  office." 

"Oh,  no,"  said  Uncle  Steve,  shaking  his  head; 
you  don't  care  about  jaoM  offices,,  a»d  waike  in* 


" 


63 

the  woods,  and  drives  through  the  country.  You'd 
rather  slide  down  an  old  barn  roof,  and  then  lie 
in  bed  for  a  week." 

"Catch  me  doing  it  again,"  said  Marjorie, 
shaking  her  head  decidedly;  "and  now,  Uncle, 
suppose  we  open  these  letters." 

"Why,  that  wouldn't  be  a  bad  idea.  Here's  a 
paper-cutter.  Let's  open  one  at  a  time,  they'll 
last  longer.  Suppose  you  read  this  one  first." 

Marjorie  opened  the  first  letter,  and  quickly 
turned  the  page  to  see  the  signature. 

"Why,  Uncle  Steve,"  she  cried,  "this  is  signed 
Ned  and  Dick!  I  didn't  know  horses  could  write 
letters." 

"There  are  a  great  many  things,  my  child,  that 
you  don't  know  yet.  And  so  Ned  and  Dick  have 
written  to  you!  Now  that's  very  kind  of  them. 
Read  me  what  they  say." 

In  great  glee,  Marjorie  read  aloud: 

"DEAR  MARJORIE: 

It  is  too  bad 
For  you  to  act  this  way; 
Just  think  what  fun  we  might  have  had 
Out  driving  every  day. 


64  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

"We  could  have  gone  to  Blossom  Banks, 

Or  Maple  Grove  instead; 
But  no,  you  had  to  cut  up  pranks 
That  landed  you  in  bed! 


"We  hope  you'll  soon  be  well  again, 

And  get  downstairs  right  quick; 
And  we  will  all  go  driving  then. 
Your  true  friends, 

NED  AKD  DICK." 


"Well,  I  do  declare,"  said  Uncle  Steve,  "I  al- 
ways said  they  were  intelligent  horses,  but  this 
is  the  first  time  I've  ever  heard  of  their  writing 
a  letter.  They  must  be  very  fond  of  you,  Mar- 
jorie." 

Marjorie's  eyes  twinkled.  She  well  knew  Uncle 
Steve  had  written  the  letter  himself,  but  she  was 
always  ready  to  carry  out  her  part  of  a  joke, 
so  she  replied: 

"Yes,  I  think  they  must  be  fond  of  me,  and  I 
think  I  know  somebody  else  who  is,  too.  But  it 
was  nice  of  Ned  and  Dick  to  write  and  let  me  know 
that  they  hadn't  forgotten  me.  And  as  soon  as 
I  can  get  downstairs,  I  shall  be  delighted  to  go 


SOME  INTERESTING  LETTERS         65 

driving  with  them.  Where  is  Blossom  Banks, 
Uncle?" 

"Oh,  it's  a  lovely  place,  a  sort  of  picnic  ground ; 
there  are  several  grassy  banks,  and  blossoms  grow 
all  over  them.  They  slope  right  down  to  the 
river;  but,  of  course,  you  wouldn't  think  them 
nearly  so  nice  as  a  sloping  barn  roof." 

Marjorie  knew  she  must  stand  teasing  from 
Uncle  Steve,  but  his  smile  was  so  good-natured, 
and  he  was  such  a  dear  old  uncle  anyway,  that 
she  didn't  mind  it  very  much. 

"Suppose  I  read  another  letter,"  she  said,  quite 
ready  to  turn  the  subject. 

"Do;  open  that  one  with  the  typewritten  ad- 
dress. I  wonder  who  could  have  written  that! 
Perhaps  the  cow;  she's  very  agile  on  the  type- 
writer." 

The  mental  picture  of  the  cow  using  the  type- 
writer produced  such  hilarity  that  it  was  a  few 
moments  before  the  letter  was  opened. 

"It  is  from  the  cow!"  exclaimed  Marjorie,  "and 
she  does  write  beautifully  on  the  machine.  I  don't 
see  a  single  error." 


66  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

"Read  it  out,  Midge ;  I  always  love  to  hear  let- 
ters from  cows." 

So  Marjorie  read  the  cow's  note: 

"Mopsy  Midge,  come  out  to  play; 
I've  waited  for  you  all  the  day. 
In  the  Garden  and  by  the  brook, 
All  day  for  you  I  vainly  look. 
With  anxious  brow  and  gaze  intense 
I  lean  against  the  old  rail  fence, 
And  moo  and  moo,  and  raoo,  and  moo, 
In  hopes  I  may  be  heard  by  you. 
And  if  I  were  not  so  forlorn, 
I  think  I'd  try  to  blow  my  horn. 
Oh,  come  back,  Midget,  come  back  now, 
And  cheer  your  lonely,  waiting 

Cow." 

"Now,  that's  a  first-class  letter,"  declared 
Uncle  Steve.  "I  always  thought  that  cow  was 
a  poet.  She  looks  so  romantic  when  she  gazes  out 
over  the  bars.  You  ought  to  be  pleased,  Marjorie, 
that  you  have  such  loving  friends  at  Haslemere." 

"Pleased!  I'm  tickled  to  death!  I  never  had 
letters  that  I  liked  so  well.  And  just  think,  I 
have  three  left  yet  that  I  haven't  opened.  I  won- 
der who  they  can  be  from." 

"When  you  wonder  a  thing  like  that,  it  always 


SOME  INTERESTING  LETTERS         67 

seems  to  me  a  good  idea  to  open  them  and  find 
out." 

"I  just  do  believe  I  will!  Why,  this  one,"  and 
Marjorie  hastily  tore  open  another  letter,  "this 
one,  Uncle,  is  from  old  Bet !" 

"Betsy !  That  old  horse !  Well,  she  must  have 
put  on  her  spectacles  to  see  to  write  it.  But  I 
suppose  when  she  saw  Ned  and  Dick  writing,  she 
didn't  want  them  to  get  ahead  of  her,  so  she  went 
to  work  too.  Well,  do  read  it,  I'm  surely  inter- 
ested to  hear  old  Betsy's  letter." 

"Listen   then,"   said   Marjorie: 

"DEAR  LITTLE  MIDGE: 

I'm  lonesome  here, 

Without  your  merry  smiles  to  cheer. 
I  mope  around  the  livelong  day, 
And  scarcely  care  to  munch  my  hay. 
I  am  so  doleful  and  so  sad, 
I  really  do  feel  awful  bad! 
Oh  hurry,  Midge,  and  come  back  soon;, 
Perhaps  to-morrow  afternoon. 
And  then  my  woe  I  will  forget, 
And  smile  again. 

Your  lonesome  „      „ 

"Well,  she  is  an  affectionate  old  thing,"  said 
Uncle  Steve;  "and  truly,  Midget,  I  thought  she 


68 

was  feeling  lonesome  this  morning.  She  didn't 
seem  to  care  to  eat  anything,  and  she  never  smiled 
at  me  at  all." 

"She's  a  good  old  horse,  Uncle,  but  I  don't  like 
her  as  much  as  I  do  Ned  and  Dick.  But  don't 
ever  tell  Betsy  this,  for  I  wouldn't  hurt  her  feel- 
ings for  anything." 

"Oh,  yes,  just  because  Ned  and  Dick  are  spir- 
ited, fast  horses  you  like  them  better  than  poor, 
old  Betsy,  who  used  to  haul  you  around  when  you 
were  a  baby." 

"Oh,  I  like  her  well  enough;  and,  anyway,  I 
think  a  heap  more  of  her  now,  since  she  wrote  me 
such  an  affectionate  letter.  Now,  Uncle,  if  you'll 
believe  it,  this  next  one  is  from  the  chickens ! 
Would  you  have  believed  that  little  bits  of  yellow 
chickens,  in  an  incubator,  could  write  a  nice,  clear 
letter  like  this?  I  do  think  it's  wonderful!  Just 
listen  to  it: 

"DEAR  MOPSY: 

Why 

Are  you  away? 
We  weep  and  cry 
All  through  the  day. 


SOME  INTERESTING  LETTERS        69 

"Oh,  come  back  quick, 

Dear  Mopsy  Mop ! 
Then  each  small  chick 
Will  gayly  hop. 

"We'll  chirp  with  glee, 
No  more  we'll  weep; 
Each  chickadee 
Will  loudly  peep." 

"Well,  that's  certainly  fine,  Midget,  for  such 
little  chickens.  If  it  were  the  old  hen,  now,  I 
wouldn't  be  so  surprised,  for  I  see  her  scratching 
on  the  ground  every  day.  I  suppose  she's  prac- 
tising her  writing  lesson,  but  I  never  yet  have  been 
able  to  read  the  queer  marks  she  makes.  But 
these  little  yellow  chickadees  write  plainly  enough, 
and  I  do  think  they  are  wonderfully  clever." 

"Yes,  and  isn't  it  funny  that  they  can  rhyme  so 
well,  too?" 

"It  is,  indeed.  I  always  said  those  Plymouth 
Rocks  were  the  smartest  chickens  of  all,  but  I 
never  suspected  they  could  write  poetry." 

"And  now,  Uncle,  I've  only  one  left."  Marjorie 
looked  regretfully  at  the  last  letter,  wishing  there 
were  H,  do/en  more.  "But  I  can  keep  them  and 


70  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

read  them  over  and  over  again,  I  like  them  so 
much.  I'd  answer  them,  but  I  don't  believe  those 
animals  read  as  well  as  they  write." 

"No,"  said  Uncle  Steve,  wagging  his  head 
sagely,  "I  don't  believe  they  do.  Well,  read  your 
last  one,  Mops,  and  let's  see  who  wrote  it." 

"Why,  Uncle,  it's  from  the  dogs!  It's  signed 
'Nero  and  Tray  and  Rover' !  Weren't  they  just 
darling  to  write  to  me !  I  believe  I  miss  the  dogs 
more  than  anything  else,  because  I  can  have  Puffy 
up  here  with  me." 

Marjorie  paused  long  enough  to  cuddle  the 
little  heap  of  grey  fur  that  lay  on  the  counter- 
pane beside  her,  and  then  proceeded  to  read  the 

letter: 

"DearMopsy  Midget, 

We're  in  a  fidget, 
Because  we  cannot  find  you; 
We  want  to  know 
How  you  could  go 
And  leave  your  dogs  behind  you! 

"We  bark  and  howl, 

And  snarl  and  yowl, 
And  growl  the  whole  day  long; 

You  are  not  here, 

And,  Mopsy  dear, 
We  fear  there's  something  wrong ! 


SOME  INTERESTING  LETTERS         H 

"We  haven't  heard; 

Oh,  send  us  word 
Whatever  is  the  matter ! 

Oh,  hurry  up 

And  cheer  each  pup 
With  laughter  and  gay  chatter.'' 

"That's  a  very  nice  letter,"  said  Marjorie,  as 
she  folded  it  up  and  returned  it  to  its  envelope. 
"And  I  do  think  the  animals  at  Haslemere  are  the 
most  intelligent  I  have  ever  known.  Uncle,  I'm 
going  to  send  these  letters  all  down  home  for  King 
and  Kitty  to  read,  and  then  they  can  send  them 
back  to  me,  for  I'm  going  to  keep  them  all  my 
life." 

"I'll  tell  you  a  better  plan  than  that,  Midget. 
If  you  want  the  children  to  read  them,  I'll  make 
copies  of  them  for  you  to  send  home.  And  then 
I'll  tell  you  what  you  might  do,  if  you  like.  When 
I  go  downtown  I'll  buy  you  a  great  big  scrap- 
book,  and  then  you  can  paste  these  letters  in,  and 
as  the  summer  goes  on,  you  can  paste  in  all  sorts 
of  things;  pressed  leaves  or  flowers,  pictures  and 
letters,  and  souvenirs  of  all  sorts.  Won't  that  be 
nice?" 


72  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

"Uncle  Steve,  it  will  be  perfectly  lovely!  You 
do  have  the  splendidest  ideas !  Will  you  get  the 
book  to-morrow?" 

"Yes,  Miss  Impatience,  I  will." 

And  that  night,  Marjorie  fell  asleep  while 
thinking  of  all  the  lovely  things  she  could  collect 
to  put  in  the  bock,  which  Uncle  Steve  had  told 
her  she  must  call  her  Memory  Book. 


CHAPTER  VI 
BOO! 

THE  days  of  Marjorie's  imprisonment  went  by 
pleasantly  enough.  Every  morning  Molly  would 
come  over,  and  they  played  with  their  paper-doll 
houses.  These  houses  continually  grew  in  size  and 
beauty.  Each  girl  added  a  second  book,  which 
represented  grounds  and  gardens.  There  were 
fountains,  and  flowerbeds  and  trees  and  shrubs, 
which  they  cut  from  florists'  catalogues;  other 
pages  were  barns  and  stables,  and  chicken-coops, 
all  filled  with  most  beautiful  specimens  of  the  ani- 
mals that  belonged  in  them.  There  were  vegeta- 
ble gardens  and  grape  arbors  and  greenhouses, 
for  Uncle  Steve  had  become  so  interested  in  this 
game  that  he  brought  the  children  wonderful  addi- 
tions to  their  collections. 

It  was  quite  as  much  fun  to  arrange  the  houses 
78 


74  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

and  grounds  as  it  was  to  play  with  them,  and  each 
new  idea  was  hailed  with  shrieks  of  delight. 

Molly  often  grew  so  excited  that  she  upset  the 
paste-pot,  and  her  scraps  and  cuttings  flew  far 
and  wide,  but  good-natured  Jane  was  always  ready 
to  clear  up  after  the  children.  Jane  had  been 
with  Mrs.  Sherwood  for  many  years,  and  Mar- 
jorie  was  her  favorite  of  all  the  grandchildren, 
and  she  was  never  too  tired  to  wait  upon  her. 
She,  too,  hunted  up  old  books  and  papers  that 
might  contain  some  contributions  to  the  paper-doll 
houses.  But  afternoons  were  always  devoted  to 
rest,  until  four  or  five  o'clock,  when  Uncle  Steve 
came  to  pay  Ivs  daily  visit. 

One  afternoon  he  came  in  with  a  fresh  budget  of 
letters. 

"Letters!"  exclaimed  Marjorie.  "Goody!  I 
haven't  had  any  ( letters  for  two  days.  Please 
give  them  to  me,  Uncle,  and  please  give  me  a 
paper-cutter." 

"Midge,"  said  Uncle  Steve,  "if  you  think  these 
are  letters,  you're  very  much  mistaken.  They're 
not." 


BOO!  75 

"What  are  they,  then?"  asked  Marjorie, 
greatly  mystified,  for  they  certainly  looked  like 
letters,  and  were  sealed  and  stamped. 

"As  I've  often  told  you,  it's  a  good  plan  to 
open  them  and  see." 

Laughing  in  anticipation  at  what  she  knew 
must  be  some  new  joke  of  Uncle  Steve's,  Marjorie 
cut  the  envelopes  open. 

The  first  contained,  instead  of  a  sheet  of  paper, 
a  small  slip,  on  which  was  written: 

"If  you  think  this  a  letter,  you're  much  mistook; 
It's  only  a  promise  of  a 

New 

Book!" 

"Well,"  said  Marjorie,  'that's  just  as  good  as 
a  letter,  for  if  you  promise  me  a  book,  I  know 
I'll  get  it.  Oh,  Uncle,  you  are  such  a  duck !  Now 
I'll  read  the  next  one." 

The  next  one  was  a  similar  slip,  and  said : 

"This  isn't  a  letter,  though  like  one  it  seems; 
It's  only  a  promise  of  Chocolate  Creams!" 

"Oh!"  cried  Marjorie,  ecstatically,  "this  is  just 


76  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

too  much  fun  for  anything!  Do  you  mean  real 
chocolate  creams,  Uncle?" 

"Oh,  these  are  only  promises.  Very  likely  they 
don't  mean  anything." 

"Your  promises  do;  you've  never  broken  one 
yet.  Now  I'll  read  another: 

"This  isn't  a  letter,  dear  Marjorie  Mops, 
It's  only  a  promise  of  Peppermint  Drops !" 

"Every  one  is  nicer  than  the  last!  And  now 
for  the  very  last  one  of  all!" 

Marjorie  cut  open  the  fourth  envelope,  and 
read: 

"Dear  Mopsy  Midget,  this  isn't  a  letter; 
Ifs  only  a  promise  of  something  much  better !" 

"Why,  it  doesn't  say  what!"  exclaimed  Midge, 
but  even  as  she  spoke,  Jane  came  into  the  room 
bringing  a  tray. 

She  set  it  on  the  table  at  Marjorie's  bedside, 
and  Marjorie  gave  a  scream  of  delight  when  she 
saw  a  cut-glass  bowl  heaped  high  with  pink  ice 
cream. 


BOO !  77 

"Oh,  Uncle  Steve !"  she  cried,  "the  ice  cream  is 
the  'something  better,'  I  know  it  is,  and  those 
other  parcels  are  the  other  three  promises !  Can 
I  open  them  now?" 

Almost  without  waiting  for  her  question  to  be 
answered,  Marjorie  tore  off  papers  and  strings, 
and  found,  as  she  fully  expected,  a  box  of  choco- 
late creams,  a  box  of  peppermint  drops,  and  a 
lovely  new  story  book. 

Then  Grandma  came  in  to  their  tea  party  and 
they  all  ate  the  ice  cream,  and  Marjorie  declared 
it  was  the  loveliest  afternoon  tea  she  had  ever 
attended. 

Even  Puff  was  allowed  to  have  a  small  saucer  of 
the  ice  cream,  for  she  was  a  very  dainty  kitten, 
and  her  table  manners  were  quite  those  of  polite 
society. 

But  the  next  afternoon  Uncle  Steve  was 
obliged  to  go  to  town,  and  Marjorie  felt  quite 
disconsolate  at  the  loss  of  the  jolly  afternoon 
hour. 

But  kind-hearted  Grandma  planned  a  pleasure 
for  her,  and  told  her  she  would  invite  both  Stella 


78  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

Martin  and  Molly  to  come  to  tea  with  Marjorie 
from  four  till  five. 

Marjorie  had  not  seen  Stella  since  the  day  they 
came  up  together  on  the  train,  and  the  little  girls 
were  glad  to  meet  again.  Stella  and  Molly  were 
about  as  different  as  two  children  could  be,  for 
while  Molly  was  headstrong,  energetic,  and  mis- 
chievous, Stella  was  timid,  quiet,  and  demure. 

Both  Marjorie  and  Molly  were  very  quick  in 
their  actions,  but  Stella  was  naturally  slow  and 
deliberate.  When  they  played  games,  Stella  took 
as  long  to  make  her  move  as  Molly  and  Midge  to- 
gether. This  made  them  a  little  impatient,  but 
Stella  only  opened  her  big  blue  eyes  in  wonder  and 
said,  "I  can't  do  things  any  faster."  So  they 
soon  tired  of  playing  games,  and  showed  Stella 
their  paper-dolls'  houses.  Here  they  were  the 
surprised  ones,  for  Stella  was  an  adept  at  paper 
dolls  and  knew  how  to  draw  and  cut  out  lovely 
dolls,  and  told  Marjorie  that  if  she  had  a  paint- 
box she  could  paint  them. 

"I  wish  you  would  come  over  some  other  day, 
Stella,  and  do  it,"  said  Midge ;  "for  I  know  Uncle 


BOO!  79 

Steve  will  get  me  a  paint-box  if  I  ask  him  to,  and 
a  lot  of  brushes,  and  then  we  can  all  paint.  Oh, 
we'll  have  lots  of  fun,  won't  we?" 

"Yes,  thank  you,"  said  Stella,  sedately. 

Marjorie  giggled  outright.  'It  seems  so 
funny,"  she  said,  by  way  of  explanation,  "to  have 
you  say  'yes,  thank  you*  to  us  children ;  I  only  say 
it  to  grown  people ;  don't  you,  Molly  ?" 

"I  don't  say  it  at  all,"  confessed  Molly;  "I 
mean  to,  but  I  'most  always  forget.  It's  awful 
hard  for  me  to  remember  manners.  But  it  seems 
to  come  natural  to  Stella." 

Stella  looked  at  her,  but  said  nothing.  She  was 
a  very  quiet  child,  and  somehow  she  exasperated 
Marjorie.  Perhaps  she  would  not  have  done  so 
had  they  all  been  out  of  doors,  playing  together, 
but  she  sat  on  a  chair  by  Marjorie's  bedside  with 
her  hands  folded  in  her  lap,  and  her  whole  atti- 
tude so  prim  that  Marjorie  couldn't  help  think- 
ing to  herself  that  she'd  like  to  stick  a  pin  in  her. 
Of  course  she  wouldn't  have  done  it,  really,  but 
Marjorie  had  a  riotous  vein  of  mischief  in  her, 
and  had  little  use  for  excessive  quietness  of  de- 


80  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

meaner,  except  when  the  company  of  grown-ups 
demanded  it. 

But  Stella  seemed  not  at  all  conscious  that  her 
conduct  was  different  from  the  others,  and  she 
smiled  mildly  at  their  rollicking  fun,  and  agreed 
quietly  to  their  eager  enthusiasms. 

At  last  Jane  came  in  with  the  tea-tray,  and  the 
sight  of  the  crackers  and  milk,  the  strawberries 
and  little  cakes,  created  a  pleasant  diversion. 

Stella  sat  still  in  her  chair,  while  Marjorie 
braced  herself  up  on  her  pillows,  and  Molly,  who 
was  sitting  on  the  bed,  bounced  up  and  down  with 
glee. 

Marjorie  was  getting  much  better  now,  so  that 
she  could  sit  upright  and  preside  over  the  feast. 
She  served  the  strawberries  for  her  guests,  and 
poured  milk  for  them  from  the  glass  pitcher. 

Molly  and  Marjorie  enjoyed  the  good  things, 
as  they  always  enjoyed  everything,  but  Stella 
seemed  indifferent  even  to  the  delights  of  straw- 
berries and  cream. 

She  sat  holding  a  plate  in  one  hand,  and  a  glass 
of  milk  in  the  other,  and  showed  about  as  much 


BOO!  81 

animation  as  a  marble  statue.  Even  her  glance 
was  roving  out  of  the  window,  and  somehow  the 
whole  effect  of  the  child  was  too  much  for  Mar- 
jorie's  spirit  of  mischief. 

Suddenly,  and  in  a  loud  voice,  she  said  to  Stella, 
"Boo!" 

This,  in  itself,  was  not  frightful,  but  coming 
so  unexpectedly  it  startled  Stella,  and  she  invol- 
untarily jumped,  and  her  glass  and  plate  fell  to 
the  floor  with  a  crash;  and  strawberries,  cakes, 
and  milk  fell  in  a  scattered  and  somewhat  un- 
pleasant disarray. 

Marjorie  was  horrified  at  what  she  had  done, 
but  Stella's  face,  as  she  viewed  the  catastrophe, 
was  so  comical  that  Marjorie  went  off  into  peals 
of  laughter.  Molly  joined  in  this,  and  the  two 
girls  laughed  until  the  bed  shook. 

Frightened  and  nervous  at  the  whole  affair, 
Stella  began  to  cry.  And  curiously  enough, 
Stella's  method  of  weeping  was  as  noisy  as  her 
usual  manner  was  quiet.  She  cried  with  such 
loud,  heart-rending  sobs  that  the  other  girls  were 
frightened  into  quietness  again,  until  they  caught 


82  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

sight  of  Stella's  open  mouth  and  tightly-closed 
but  streaming  eyes,  when  hilarity  overtook  them 
again. 

Into  this  distracting  scene,  came  Grandma. 
She  stood  looking  in  amazement  at  the  three  chil- 
dren and  the  debris  on  the  floor. 

At  first  Mrs.  Sherwood  naturally  thought  it  an 
accident  due  to  Stella's  carelessness,  but  Mar- 
jorie  instantly  confessed. 

"It's  my  fault,  Grandma,"  she  said;  "I  scared 
Stella,  and  she  couldn't  help  dropping  her  things." 

"You  are  a  naughty  girl,  Mischief,"  said 
Grandma,  as  she  tried  to  comfort  the  weeping 
Stella.  "I  thought  you  would  at  least  be  polite  to 
your  little  guests,  or  I  shouldn't  have  given  you 
this  tea  party." 

"I'm  awfully  sorry,"  said  Marjorie,  contritely; 
"please  forgive  me,  Stella,  but  honestly  I  didn't 
think  it  would  scare  you  so.  What  would  you  do, 
Molly,  if  I  said  'boo'  to  you?" 

"I'd  say  'boo  yourself !"  returned  Molly, 
promptly. 

*I  know  you  would,"  said  Marjorie,  "but  you 


BOO !  83 

see  Stella's  different,  and  I  ought  to  have  re- 
membered the  difference.  Don't  cry,  Stella; 
truly  I'm  sorry !  Don't  cry,  and  I'll  give  you 
my — my  paper-doll's  house." 

This  was  generous  on  Marjorie's  part,  for  just 
then  her  paper-doll's  house  was  her  dearest  treas- 
ure. 

But  Stella  rose  to  the  occasion. 

"I  w-wont  t-take  it,"  she  said,  still  sobbing, 
though  trying  hard  to  control  herself;  "it  wasn't 
your  fault,  Marjorie;  I  oughtn't  to  have  been 
so  silly  as  to  be  scared  b-because  you  said 
b-boo !" 

By  this  time  Jane  had  removed  all  evidences  of 
the  accident,  and  except  for  a  few  stains  on 
Stella's  frock,  everything  was  in  order. 

But  Stella,  though  she  had  quite  forgiven  Mar- 
jorie, was  upset  by  the  whole  affair,  and  wanted  to 
go  home. 

So  Grandma  declared  she  would  take  the  child 
home  herself  and  apologize  to  Mrs.  Martin  for 
Marjorie's  rudeness. 

"It  was  rude,  Marjorie,"  she  said,  as  she  went 


84  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

away;  "and  I  think  Molly  must  go  home  now. 
and  leave  you  to  do  a  little  thinking  about  your 
conduct  to  your  other  guest." 

So  Marjorie  was  left  alone  to  think,  and  half 
an  hour  later  Grandma  returned. 

"That  was  a  naughty  trick,  Marjorie,  and  I 
think  you  ought  to  be  punished  for  it." 

"But,  Grandma,"  argued  Miss  Mischief,  "I 
wasn't  disobedient;  you  never  told  me  not  to  say 
boo  to  anybody." 

"But  I  told  you,  dear,  that  you  must  use  your 
common-sense;  and  you  must  have  known  that  to 
startle  Stella  by  a  sudden  scream  at  her  was 
enough  to  make  her  drop  whatever  she  was  hold- 
ing." 

"Grandma,  I  'spect  I  was  mischievous;  but 
truly,  she  did  look  so  stiff  and  pudgy,  I  just  had 
to  make  her  jump." 

"I  know  what  you  mean,  Midge;  and  you  have 
a  natural  love  of  mischief,  but  you  must  try  to 
overcome  it.  I  want  you  to  grow  up  polite  and 
kind,  and  remember  those  two  words  mean  almost 
exactly  the  same  thing.  You  knew  it  wasn't  kind 


BOO!  85 

to  make   Stella  jump,  even  if  it  hadn't   caused 
her  to  upset  things." 

"No,  I  know  it  wasn't,  Grandma,  and  I'm  sorry 
now.  But  I'll  tell  you  what :  whenever  Stella  comes 
over  here  again,  I'll  try  to  be  specially  kind  to 
her,  to  make  up  for  saying  boo!" 


CHAPTER  VII 

A    BOAT-RIDE 

GREAT  was  the  rejoicing  of  the  whole  household 
when  at  last  Marjorie  was  able  to  come  down- 
stairs once  more. 

Uncle  Steve  assisted  her  down.  He  didn't  carry 
her,  for  he  said  she  was  far  too  much  of  a  heavy- 
weight for  any  such  performance  as  that,  but 
he  supported  her  on  one  side,  and  with  a  banister 
rail  on  the  other  she  managed  beautifully. 

And,  anyway,  her  ankle  was  just  about  as  well 
as  ever.  The  doctor  had  not  allowed  the  active 
child  to  come  downstairs  until  there  was  little 
if  any  danger  that  an  imprudence  on  her  part 
might  injure  her  again. 

It  was  Saturday  afternoon,  and  though  she 
could  not  be  allowed  to  walk  about  the  place  until 
the  following  week,  yet  Uncle  Steve  took  her  for 

86' 


A  BOAT-RIDE  87 

a  long,  lovely  drive  behind  Ned  and  Dick,  and  then 
brought  her  back  to  another  jolly  little  surprise. 

This  was  found  in  a  certain  sheltered  corner  of 
one  of  the  long  verandas.  It  was  so  built  that  it 
was  almost  like  a  cosy,  little  square  room;  and 
climbing  vines  formed  a  pleasant  screen  from  the 
bright  sunlight.  To  it  Uncle  Steve  had  brought 
a  set  of  wicker  furniture:  dear  little  chairs  and 
a  table  and  a  settee,  all  painted  green.  Then 
there  was  a  green-and-white  hammock  swung  at 
just  the  right  height,  and  containing  two  or  three 
fat,  jolly-looking,  green  pillows,  in  the  midst  of 
which  Puff  had  chosen  to  curl  herself  up  for  a 
nap. 

There  was  a  little  bamboo  bookcase,  with  a  few 
books  and  papers,  and  a  large  box  covered  with 
Japanese  matting,  which  had  a  hinged  lid,  and 
was  lovely  to  keep  things  in.  There  was  a  rug  on 
the  floor,  and  Japanese  lanterns  hung  from  the 
ceiling,  all  in  tones  of  green  and  white  and  silver. 

Marjorie  unceremoniously  dislodged  Puff  from 
her  comfortable  position,  and  flung  herself  into 
the  hammock  instead. 


88  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

"Uncle  Steve!"  she  exclaimed,  grabbing  that 
gentleman  tightly  round  the  neck  as  he  leaned 
over  her  to  adjust  her  pillows,  "you  are  the  best 
man  in  the  whole  world,  and  I  think  you  ought  to 
be  President !  If  you  do  any  more  of  these  lovely 
things  for  me  I  shall  just — just  suffocate  with 
joy.  What  makes  you  so  good  to  me,  any- 
how?" 

"Oh,  because  you're  such  a  little  saint,  and 
never  do  anything  naughty  or  mischievous !" 

"That's  a  splendid  reason,"  cried  Marjorie, 
quite  appreciating  the  joke,  "and,  truly,  Uncle 
Steve, — don't  you  tell, — it's  a  great  secret:  but 
I  am  going  to  try  to  be  more  dignified  and 
solemn." 

This  seemed  to  strike  Uncle  Steve  as  being  very 
funny,  for  he  sat  down  on  the  little  wicker  settee 
«md  laughed  heartily. 

"Well,  you  may  as  well  begin  now,  then;  and 
put  on  your  most  dignified  and  pompous  manner, 
as  you  lie  there  in  that  hammock,  for  I'm  going 
to  read  to  you  until  tea-time." 

"Goody,  goody!"  cried  Marjorie,  bobbing  up 


A  BOAT-RIDE  89 

her  curly  head,  and  moving  about  excitedly. 
"Please,  Uncle,  read  from  that  new  book  you 
brought  me  last  night.  I'll  get  it!" 

"That's  a  nice,  dignified  manner,  that  is !  Your 
Serene  Highness  will  please  calm  yourself,  and 
stay  just  where  you  are.  /  shall  select  the  book  to 
read  from,  and  /  shall  do  the  reading.  All  you 
have  to  do  is  to  lie  still  and  listen." 

So  Marjorie  obeyed,  and,  of  course,  Uncle  Steve 
picked  out  the  very  book  she  wanted,  and  read 
to  her  delightfully  for  an  hour  or  more. 

Marjorie's  porch,  as  it  came  to  be  called,  proved 
to  be  a  favorite  resort  all  summer  long  for  the 
family  and  for  any  guests  who  came  to  the  house. 
Marjorie  herself  almost  lived  in  it  for  the  first 
few  days  after  she  came  downstairs,  but  at  last 
the  doctor  pronounced  her  ankle  entirely  well,  and 
said  she  might  "start  out  to  find  some  fresh  mis- 
chief." 

So  the  next  morning,  directly  after  breakfast, 
she  announced  her  intention  of  going  down  to 
see  the  boathouse. 

"Just  think,"  she  exclaimed,  "I  have  never  seen 


90  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

it  yet,  and  King  told  me  to  go  down  there  the 
very  first  thing." 

"I  suppose  you'll  come  back  half -drowned,"  said 
Grandma,  "but  as  you  seem  unable  to  learn  any- 
thing, except  by  mistakes,  go  ahead.  But,  Mar- 
jorie,  do  try  not  to  do  some  absurd  thing,  and 
then  say  that  I  haven't  forbidden  it!  I  don't 
forbid  you  to  go  in  the  boat,  if  Carter  goes  with 
you,  but  I  do  forbid  you  to  go  alone.  Will  you 
remember  that?" 

"Yes,  Grandma,  truly  I  will,"  said  Marjorie, 
with  such  a  seraphic  smile  that  her  grandmother 
kissed  her  at  once. 

"Then  run  along  and  have  a  good  time;  and 
don't  jump  off  the  dock  or  anything  foolish." 

"I  won't,"  cried  Marjorie,  gayly;  and  then  she 
went  dancing  down  the  path  to  the  garden.  Carter 
was  in  the  greenhouse  potting  some  plants. 

"Carter,"  said  Marjorie,  putting  her  head  in 
at  the  door,  "are  you  very  busy?" 

"Busy,  indeed!  I  have  enough  work  here  with 
these  pesky  plants  to  keep  me  steady  at  it  till 
summer  after  next.  Busy,  is  it?  I'm  so  busy 


A  BOAT-RIDE  91 

that  the  bees  and  the  ants  is  idle  beside  me.  Busy  ? 
Well,  I  am  busy !" 

But  as  the  good-natured  old  man  watched  Mar- 
jorie's  face,  and  saw  the  look  of  disappointment 
settling  upon  it,  he  said:  "But  what  matters  that? 
If  so  be,  Miss  Midget,  I  can  do  anything  for  you, 
you've  only  to  command." 

"Well,  Carter,  I  thought  this  morning  I'd  like 
to  go  down  to  see  the  boathouse;  and  I  thought, 
perhaps, — maybe,  if  you  weren't  busy,  you  might 
take  me  for  a  little  row  in  the  boat.  Just  a  little 
row,  you  know — not  very  far." 

It  would  have  taken  a  harder  heart  than  Car- 
ter's to  withstand  the  pleading  tones  and  the  ex- 
pectant little  face;  and  the  gardener  set  down 
his  flower-pots,  and  laid  down  his  trowel  at 
once. 

"Did  your  grandmother  say  you  could  go,  Miss 
Midget?" 

"She  said  I  could  go  if  you  went  with  me." 

"Then  it's  with  ye  I  go,  and  we'll  start  at  once." 

Marjorie  danced  along  by  the  side  of  the  old 
man  as  he  walked  more  slowly  down  the  garden 


92  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

path,  when  suddenly  a  new  idea  came  into  her 
head. 

"Oh,  Carter,"  she  cried,  "have  my  seeds  come 
up  yet?  And  what  are  the  flowers?  Let's  go 
and  look  at  them." 

"Come  up  yet,  is  it?  No,  indeed,  they've 
scarcely  settled  themselves  down  in  the  earth  yet." 

"I  wish  they  would  come  up,  I  want  to  see  what 
they'll  be.  Let's  go  and  look  at  the  place  where 
we  planted  them,  Carter." 

So  they  turned  aside  to  the  flowerbed  where  the 
precious  seeds  had  been  planted,  but  not  even  Mar- 
jorie's  sharp  eyes  could  detect  the  tiniest  green 
sprout.  With  an  impatient  little  sigh  she  turned 
away,  and  as  they  continued  down  toward  the 
boathouse,  Marjorie  heard  somebody  calling,  and 
Molly  Moss  came  flying  up  to  her,  all  out  of  breath. 

"We  were  so  afraid  we  wouldn't  catch  you,"  she 
exclaimed,  "for  your  Grandma  said  you  had  gone 
out  in  the  boat." 

"We  haven't  yet,"  answered  Marjorie,  "but 
we're  just  going.  Oh,  Carter,  can  we  take  Molly, 
too?" 


A  BOAT-RIDE  9S 

"And  Stella,"  added  Molly.  "She's  coming 
along  behind." 

Sure  enough,  Stella  was  just  appearing  round 
the  corner  of  the  house,  and  walking  as  sedately 
as  if  on  her  way  to  church. 

"Hurry  up,  Stella,"  called  Marjorie.  "Can  we 
aU  go,  Carter?" 

"Yes,  if  yees'll  set  still  in  the  boat  and  if  the 
other  little  lady  gets  here  before  afternoon.  She's 
the  nice,  quiet  child,  but  you  two  are  a  pair  of 
rascally  babies,  and  I  don't  know  whether  it's 
safe  to  go  on  the  water  with  ye.  I'm  thinkin' 
I'll  take  little  Miss  Stella,  and  leave  ye  two  be- 
hind." 

"/  don't  think  you  will,  Carter,"  said  Marjorie,. 
not  at  all  alarmed  by  the  old  man's  threat.  "/ 
think  you'll  take  all  three  of  us,  and  we'll  sit  as 
still  as  mice,  won't  we,  Molly?" 

"Yes,"  said  Molly;  "can  we  take  off  our  shoes 
and  stockings  and  hang  our  feet  over  the  sides 
of  the  boat?" 

"Oh,  yes,"  cried  Marjorie,  "that  will  be  lots 
of  fun!" 


94  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

"Indeed  you'll  do  nothing  of  the  sort,"  and 
Carter's  honest  old  face  showed  that  he  felt  great 
anxiety  concerning  his  madcap  charges.  "Ye 
must  promise  to  sit  still,  and  not  move  hand  or 
foot,  or  I'll  go  back  to  my  work  and  leave  yees 
on  shore." 

This  awful  suggestion  brought  about  promises 
of  strictly  good  behavior,  and  as  Stella  had 
arrived,  the  party  proceeded  to  the  boathouse. 

Stella  was  mildly  pleased  at  the  prospect  of  a 
row,  and  walked  demurely  by  Carter's  side,  while 
the  other  two  ran  on  ahead  and  reached  the  boat- 
house  first. 

As  the  door  was  locked,  and  they  could  not 
open  it,  Marjorie,  who  was  all  impatience  to  see 
the  boat,  proposed  that  they  climb  in  the  window. 
Molly  needed  no  second  invitation,  and  easily 
slipped  through  the  little  square  window,  and  Mar- 
jorie, with  a  trifle  more  difficulty,  wriggled  her 
own  plump  little  body  through  after. 

As  the  window  was  not  on  the  side  of  the  boat- 
house  toward  which  Carter  was  approaching,  he 
did  not  see  the  performance,  and  so  when  he  and 


A  BOAT-RIDE  95 

Stella  reach  the  boathouse  a  few  moments  later, 
they  could  see  nothing  at  all  of  the  other  two 
girls. 

"Merciful  powers!"  he  exclaimed.  "Whatever 
has  become  of  them  two  witches  ?" 

"Where  can  they  be?"  cried  Stella,  clasping  her 
hands,  and  opening  her  eyes  wide  in  alarm. 

Old  Carter  was  genuinely  frightened.  "Miss 
Marjorie !"  he  called,  loudly.  "Miss  Molly !  Where 
be  ye?" 

Meanwhile,  the  two  girls  inside  the  boathouse 
had  carefully  scrambled  down  into  the  boat  and 
sat  quietly  on  the  stern  seat.  There  was  a  strong 
breeze  blowing,  and  as  the  boat  swayed  up  and 
down  on  the  rippling  water,  its  keel  grating 
against  the  post  to  which  it  was  tied,  and  the 
doors  and  windows  being  tightly  shut,  they  did 
not  hear  Carter's  voice.  They  really  had  no  in- 
tention of  frightening  the  old  man,  and  supposed 
he  would  open  the  door  in  a  moment. 

But  Carter's  mind  was  so  filled  with  the  thought 
that  the  children  had  fallen  into  the  water  that 
it  didn't  occur  to  him  to  open  the  boathouse.  He 


96  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

went  to  the  edge  of  the  pier,  which  was  a  narrow 
affair,  consisting  only  of  two  wooden  planks  and 
a  single  hand  rail,  and  gazed  anxiously  down  into 
the  water. 

This  gave  Stella  a  firm  conviction  that  the  girls 
were  drowned,  and  without  another  word  she  began 
to  cry  in  her  own  noisy  and  tumultuous  fashion. 
Poor  Carter,  already  at  his  wits'  end,  had  small 
patience  with  any  additional  worry. 

"Keep  still,  Miss  Stella,"  he  commanded;  "it's 
enough  to  have  two  children  on  me  hands  drowned 
without  another  one  raising  a  hullabaloo.  And  it's 
a  queer  thing,  too,  if  them  wicked  little  rats  is 
drownded,  why  they  don't  come  up  to  the  surface ! 
My  stars!  Whatever  will  the  Missus  say?  But, 
havin'  disappeared  so  mortal  quick,  there's  no 
place  they  can  be  but  under  the  water.  I'll 
get  a  boat-hook,  and  perhaps  I  can  save  'em 
yet." 

Trembling  with  excitement  and  bewildered  with 
anxiety,  so  that  he  scarcely  knew  what  he  did, 
the  old  man  fitted  the  key  in  the  lock.  He  flung 
open  the  boathouse  door  and  faced  the  two  chil- 


A  BOAT-RIDE  97 

dren,  who  sat  quietly  and  with  smiling  faces  in 
the  boat. 

"Well,  if  ye  don't  beat  all!  Good  land,  Miss 
Marjorie,  whatever  did  ye  give  me  such  a  scare 
for?  Sure  I  thought  ye  was  drownded,  and  I  was 
jest  goin'  to  fish  ye  up  with  a  boat-hook!  My, 
but  you  two  are  terrors !  And  how  did  ye  get  in 
now?  Through  the  keyhole,  I  suppose." 

"Why,  no,  Carter,"  exclaimed  Marjorie,  who 
was  really  surprised  at  the  old  man's  evident  ex- 
citement; "we  were  in  a  hurry,  and  the  door  was 
locked,  so  we  just  stepped  in  through  the  window." 

"Stepped  in  through  the  window,  is  it?  And 
if  the  window  had  been  locked  ye'd  have  jest 
stepped  in  through  the  chimley!  And  if  the 
chimley  had  been  locked,  ye'd  have  stepped 
into  the  water,  and  ducked  under,  and  come  up 
through  the  floor !  When  ye're  in  a  hurry,  ye  stop 
for  nothin',  Miss  Midget." 

The  old  man's  relief  at  finding  the  children  safe 
was  so  great  that  he  was  really  talking  a  string 
of  nonsense  to  hide  his  feelings. 

But  Stella,  though  she  realized  the  girls  were  all 


98  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

right,  could  not  control  her  own  emotions  so  easily, 
and  was  still  crying  vociferously. 

"For  goodness'  sake!"  exclaimed  Molly,  "what 
is  the  matter  with  Stella?  Doesn't  she  want  to  go 
boating  ?" 

"Why— yes,"  sobbed  Stella,  "b-but  I  thought 
you  two  were  drowned." 

"Well,  we're  not!"  cried  Marjorie,  gayly.  "So 
cheer  up,  Stella,  and  come  along." 

Leaving  the  two  girls,  as  they  were  already 
seated,  in  the  stern  of  the  boat,  Carter  carefully 
tucked  Stella  into  the  bow  seat,  and  then  took  his 
own  place  on  the  middle  thwart.  This  arrange- 
ment enabled  him  to  keep  his  eye  on  the  two  mis- 
chievous madcaps,  and  he  had  no  fear  that  Stella 
would  cut  up  any  tricks  behind  his  back. 

He  could  not  reprove  the  mischief-makers,  for 
they  had  done  nothing  really  wrong,  but  he  looked 
at  them  grimly  as  he  rowed  out  into  the  stream. 

"Oh,"  exclaimed  Marjorie,  "isn't  this  just  too 
lovely  for  anything!  Please,  Carter,  mayn't  we 
just  put  our  hands  in  the  water  if  we  keep  our 
feet  in  the  boat?" 


A  BOAT-RIDE  99 

"No,"  growled  Carter ;  "you'll  be  wantin'  to  put 
your  heads  in  next.  Now  do  set  still,  like  the  nice 
young  lady  behind  me." 

Anxious  to  be  good,  Marjorie  gave  a  little  sigh 
and  folded  her  hands  in  her  lap,  while  Molly  did 
likewise. 

Carter's  eyes  twinkled  as  he  looked  at  the  two 
little  martyrs,  and  his  heart  relented. 

"Ye  may  just  dangle  your  fingers  in  the  water, 
if  ye  want  to,"  he  said,  "but  ye  must  be  careful 
not  to  wobble  the  boat." 

The  children  promised,  and  then  gave  themselves 
up  to  the  delight  of  holding  their  hands  in  the 
water  and  feeling  the  soft  ripples  run  through 
their  fingers. 

The  row  down  the  river  was  perfect.  The  balmy 
June  day,  with  its  clear  air  and  blue  sky,  the  swift, 
steady  motion  of  the  boat  impelled  by  Carter's 
long,  strong  strokes,  and  the  soothing  sensation 
of  the  rushing  water  subdued  even  the  high  spirits 
of  Midge  and  Molly  into  a  sort  of  gentle,  tran- 
quil happiness. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

A    MEMORY    BOOK 

WITH  a  few  deft  strokes  Carter  brought  the  boat 
to  land  on  a  long,  smooth,  shelving  beach.  A 
crunch  of  the  keel  on  the  pebbles,  and  then  the 
boat  was  half  its  length  on  shore.  Stella,  in  the 
bow,  grasped  the  sides  of  the  boat  tightly  with 
both  hands,  as  if  the  shore  were  more  dangerous 
than  the  water.  Carter  stepped  out,  and  drew  the 
boat  well  up  on  land,  and  assisted  the  girls 
out. 

Stella  stepped  out  gingerly,  as  if  afraid  of 
soiling  her  dainty  boots;  but  Midge  and  Molly, 
with  a  hop,  skip,  and  jump,  bounded  out  on  the 
beach  and  danced  round  in  glee. 

"I  do  believe,"  cried  Marjorie,  "that  this  is 
Blossom  Banks!  For  there  are  three  banks,  one 
after  another,  just  covered  with  wild  flowers.  And 
100 


A  MEMORY  BOOK  101 

as  true  as  I  live  there's  a  scarlet  tanager  on  that 
bush !  Don't  startle  him,  Stella." 

Molly  laughed  at  the  idea  of  Stella  startling 
anything,  and  softly  the  girls  crept  nearer  to  the 
beautiful  red  bird,  but  in  a  moment  he  spread  his 
black-tipped  wings  and  flew  away. 

"It  is  Blossom  Banks,  Miss  Midge,"  said  Car- 
ter, who  now  came  up  to  the  girls,  and  who  was 
carrying  a  mysterious-looking  basket.  He  had  se- 
cured the  boat,  and  seemed  about  to  climb  the 
banks. 

"What's  in  the  basket,  Carter?"  cried  Midge. 
"Is  it  a  picnic?  Is  it  a  truly  picnic?" 

"Well,  just  a  wee  bit  of  a  picnic,  Miss  Midget. 
Your  Grandma  said  that  maybe  some  cookies  and 
apples  wouldn't  go  begging  among  yees.  But  ye 
must  climb  the  banks  first,  so  up  ye  go !" 

Gayly  the  girls  scrambled  up  the  bank,  and 
though  Stella  was  not  as  impetuous  as  the  others, 
she  was  rtot  far  behind.  At  every  step  new  beau- 
ties dawned,  and  Marjorie,  who  was  a  nature-lover, 
drew  a  long  breath  of  delight  as  she  reached  the 
top  of  the  Blossom  Banks. 


102  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

They  trotted  on,  sometimes  following  Carter's 
long  strides  and  sometimes  dancing  ahead;  now 
falling  back  to  chatter  with  Stella  and  now  racing 
each  other  to  the  next  hillock. 

At  last  they  reached  the  dearest  little  picnic 
place,  with  soft  green  grass  for  a  carpet,  and 
gnarled  roots  of  great  trees  for  rustic  seats. 

"For  a  little  picnic,"  said  Midge,  as  she  sat  with 
an  apple  in  one  hand  and  a  cookie  in  the  other, 
contentedly  munching  them  both  alternately,  "tin's 
is  the  bestest  ever.  And  isn't  this  a  splendiferous 
place  for  a  big  picnic  !" 

"Perhaps  your  grandma  will  let  you  have  one 
this  summer,"  said  Stella.  "She  had  one  for  King- 
don  last  year  and  we  all  came  to  it.  It  was  lovely 
fun." 

"Indeed  it  was,"  cried  Molly;  "there  were 
swings  on  the  trees,  and  we  played  tag,  and  we 
had  bushels  of  sandwiches." 

"I'm  going  to  ask  Grandma  as  soon  as  ever  I 
get  home,"  declared  Midge,  "and  I  'most  know 
she'll  let  me  have  one.  But  I  don't  know  many 
children  around  here  to  ask." 


A  MEMORY  BOOK  103 

"I'll  make  up  a  list  for  you,"  volunteered  Molly. 
"Come  on,  girls,  let's  play  tag." 

The  cookies  and  apples  being  all  gone  and  Car- 
ter having  consented  in  response  to  their  coaxing 
to  stay  half  an  hour  longer,  they  had  a  glorious 
game  of  tag. 

Stella,  though  so  sedate  when  walking,  could  run 
like  a  deer,  and  easily  caught  the  others;  for 
Marjorie  was  too  plump  to  run  fast,  and  Molly, 
though  light  on  her  feet,  was  forever  tumbling 
down. 

At  last,  tired  and  warm  from  their  racing,  they 
sat  down  again  in  the  little  mossy  dell  and  played 
jackstones  until  Carter  declared  they  must  go 
home. 

"All  right,"  said  Midge ;  "but,  Carter,  row  us  a 
little  farther  down  stream,  won't  you,  before  you 
turn  around?" 

"I  will,  Miss  Midge,  if  ye'll  sit  still  and 
not  be  everlastin'  makin'  me  heart  jump  into 
me  throat  thinkin'  ye'll  turn  the  boat  upside 
down." 

"All  right,"  cried  Midge,  and  she  jumped  into 


104  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

the  boat  with  a  spring  and  a  bounce  that  made 
the  other  end  tip  up  and  splash  the  water  all  over 
her. 

"There  ye  go  now,"  grumbled  Carter ;  "my,  but 
it's  the  rambunctious  little  piece  ye  are!  Now, 
Miss  Molly,  for  the  land's  sake,  do  step  in  with 
your  feet  and  not  with  your  head !  You  two'll  be 
the  death  of  me  yet !" 

Carter's  bark  was  worse  than  his  bite,  for,  al- 
though he  scolded,  he  helped  the  children  in  care- 
fully and  gently  seated  Stella  in  her  place.  Then 
he  stepped  in,  and  with  a  mighty  shove  of  the  oat 
pushed  the  boat  off  the  beach,  and  they  were  afloat 
again. 

The  exhilaration  of  the  occasion  had  roused 
Midge  and  Molly  to  a  high  state  of  f  rolicsomeness, 
and  it  did  seem  impossible  for  them  to  keep  still. 
They  dabbled  their  hands  in  the  water  and  sur- 
reptitiously splashed  each  other,  causing  much 
and  tumultuous  giggling.  This  was  innocent  fun 
in  itself,  but  Carter  well  knew  that  a  sudden  unin- 
tentional bounce  on  the  part  of  either  might  send 
the  other  one  into  the  water.  Regardless  of  their 


A  MEMORY  BOOK  105 

entreaties  he  turned  around  and  headed  the  boat 
for  home. 

"Ye're  too  many  for  me,  Miss  Midge,"  he  ex- 
claimed ;  "if  I  land  you  safe  this  trip  ye  can  get 
somebody  else  to  row  ye  the  next  time.  I'm  having, 
nervous  prostration  with  your  tricks  and  your 
didoes.  Now,  will  ye  be  good  ?" 

This  last  exasperated  question  was  caused 
by  the  fact  that  a  sudden  bounce  of  Molly's 
caused  the  boat  to  lurch  and  Carter's  swift- 
moving  oar  sent  a  drenching  wave  all  over 
Midge. 

"Pooh,  water  doesn't  hurt!"  cried  the  victim. 
"I  like  it.  Do  it  again,  Molly !" 

"Don't  you  do  it,  Miss  Molly!"  roared  Carter, 
bending  to  his  oars  and  pulling  fast  in  an  effort 
to  get  home  before  these  unmanageable  children 
had  passed  all  bounds. 

"Girls,"  piped  Stella,  plaintively  from  her  end 
of  the  boat,  "if  you  don't  stop  carrying  on,  I 
shall  cry." 

This  threat  had  more  effect  than  Carter's  repri- 
mands, and,  though  the  two  madcaps  giggled 


106  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

softly,  they  did  sit  pretty  still  for  the  remainder 
of  the  trip. 

Once  more  on  the  dock,  Marjorie  shook  her- 
self like  a  big  dog,  and  declared  she  wasn't  very 
wet,  after  all.  "And  I'm  very  much  obliged  to 
you,  Carter,"  she  said,  smiling  at  the  old  man ; 
"you  were  awful  good  to  take  us  for  such  a 
lovely  boat-ride,  and  I'm  sorry  we  carried  on 
so,  but  truly,  Carter,  it  was  such  a  lovely  boat 
that  I  just  couldn't  help  it!  And  you  do  row 
splendid !" 

The  compliment  was  sincere,  and  by  no  means 
made  with  the  intention  of  softening  Carter's 
heart,  but  it  had  that  effect,  and  he  beamed  on 
Midget  as  he  replied : 

"Ah,  that's  all  right,  me  little  lady.  Ye  just 
naturally  can't  help  bouncin'  about  like  a  rubber 
ball.  Ye  have  to  work  off  yer  animal  spirits  some- 
how, I  s'pose.  But  if  so  be  that  ye  could  sit  a 
bit  quieter,  I  might  be  injuced  to  take  ye  agin 
some  other  day.  But  I'd  rather  yer  grandma'd 
be  along." 

"Oho!"  laughed  Marjorie.  "It  would  be  funny 


A  MEMORY  BOOK  107 

to  have  Grandma  in  a  boat !  She'd  sit  stiller  than 
Stella,  and  I  don't  believe  she'd  like  it,  either." 

With  Stella  in  the  middle,  the  three  girls  inter- 
twined their  arms  and  skipped  back  to  the  house. 
Marjorie  and  Molly  had  found  that  the  only  way 
to  make  Stella  keep  up  with  them  was  to  urge 
her  along  in  that  fashion. 

"Good-by,"  said  Marjorie,  as  the  three  parted 
at  the  gate;  "be  sure  to  come  over  to-morrow 
morning;  and,  Stella,  if  you'll  bring  your  paint- 
box, it  will  be  lovely  for  you  to  paint  those  paper 
dolls." 

The  three  girls  had  become  almost  inseparable 
companions,  and  though  Midge  and  Molly  were 
more  congenial  spirits,  Stella  acted  as  a  balance 
wheel  to  keep  them  from  going  too  far.  She  really 
had  a  good  influence  over  them,  though  exerted 
quite  unconsciously;  and  Midge  and  Molly  in- 
spired Stella  with  a  little  more  self-confidence  and 
helped  her  to  conquer  her  timidity. 

"Good-by,"  returned  Stella,  "and  be  sure  to 
have  a  letter  in  the  post  office  by  four  o'clock, 
when  James  goes  for  the  milk." 


108  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

The  post  office  in  the  old  maple  tree  had  become 
quite  an  institution,  and  the  girls  put  letters  there 
for  each  other  nearly  every  day,  and  sent  for 
them  by  any  one  who  might  happen  to  be  going 
that  way. 

Quiet  little  Stella  was  especially  fond  of  getting 
letters  and  would  have  liked  to  receive  them  three 
times  a  day. 

The  elder  members  of  the  three  families  often 
sent  letters  or  gifts  to  the  children,  and  it  was  not 
at  all  unusual  to  find  picture  postcards  or  little 
boxes  of  candy,  which  unmistakably  came  from  the 
generous  hand  of  Uncle  Steve. 

One  delightful  afternoon  Marjorie  sat  in  her 
cosy  little  porch  with  a  table  full  of  delightful 
paraphernalia  and  a  heart  full  of  expectation. 

She  was  waiting  for  Uncle  Steve,  who  was  going 
to  devote  that  afternoon  to  helping  her  arrange 
her  Memory  Book.  Marjorie  had  collected  a 
quantity  of  souvenirs  for  the  purpose,  and  Uncle 
Steve  had  bought  for  her  an  enormous  scrapbook. 
When  she  had  exclaimed  at  its  great  size,  he  had 
advised  her  to  wait  until  it  had  begun  to  fill  up 


A  MEMORY  BOOK  109 

before  she  criticised  it;  and  when  she  looked  at 
her  pile  of  treasures  already  accumulated,  she 
wondered  herself  how  they  would  all  get  in  the 
book. 

At  last  Uncle  Steve  came,  and  sitting  down 
opposite  Marjorie  at  her  little  table,  announced 
himself  as  ready  to  begin  operations. 

"We'll  plan  it  out  a  little  first,  Mopsy,  and  then 
fasten  the  things  in  afterward." 

Marjorie  was  quite  content  to  sit  and  look  on, 
at  least  until  she  found  out  how  such  things  were 
done. 

"You  see,"  said  her  uncle,  "we'll  take  a  page 
for  each  occasion — more  or  less.  For  instance, 
as  this  book  is  to  represent  just  this  summer 
it  ought  to  begin  with  your  trip  up  here. 
Have  you  anything  that  reminds  you  of  that 
day?" 

"Yes,"  said  Marjorie,  looking  over  her  heap  of 
treasures,  "here's  a  little  kind  of  a  badge  that 
father  bought  for  me  at  the  station  as  we  were 
going  to  the  train." 

"Just  the  thing ;  now,  you  see,  as  this  is  on  a  pin 


110  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

itself  we'll  just  stick  it  in  this  first  page.  Any- 
thing else?" 

"Well,  here's  a  pretty  picture  I  cut  out  of  a 
magazine  on  the  train  coming  up ;  oh,  and  here  are 
two  postcards  that  I  bought  of  a  boy  who  brought 
them  through  the  train." 

"Fine !  Now,  you  see,  we'll  paste  all  these  on  this 
page  and  anything  more  if  you  have  it,  and  then 
every  time  you  look  at  this  page  you  can  just  seem 
to  see  that  whole  trip,  can't  you?" 

"Yes,"  said  Marjorie,  who  was  becoming  ab- 
sorbedly  interested  in  this  new  game;  "and  here's 
the  time-table,  Uncle:  but  that  isn't  very  pretty 
and  it's  so  big.  Oh,  and  here's  the  card,  the  bill 
of  fare,  you  know,  that  we  had  in  the  dining-car. 
See,  it  has  a  picture  on  it." 

"Why,  Midget,  it  isn't  considered  exactly  good 
form  to  carry  the  menu  away  with  you;  but  it's 
really,  no  crime,  and  since  you  have  it,  we'll  put  it 
in.  As  to  the  time-table,  we'll  just  cut  out  this 
part  that  includes  the  stations  at  the  beginning 
and  end  of  your  trip.  See?" 

"Oh,  yes,  indeed  I  do!     And  what  a  beautiful 


A  MEMORY  BOOK  111 

page!"  Marjorie  breathlessly  watched  as  Uncle 
Steve  arranged  the  souvenirs  harmoniously  on  the 
big  page  and  pasted  them  neatly  in  their  places. 
Then,  taking  from  his  pocket  a  box  of  colored 
pencils,  he  printed  at  the  top  of  the  page,  in  or- 
nate letters,  the  date  and  the  occasion.  Uncle 
Steve  was  an  adept  at  lettering,  and  the  caption 
was  an  additional  ornament  to  the  already  attract- 
ive page. 

Thus  they  went  on  through  the  book.  Some- 
times a  page  was  devoted  to  a  special  occasion, 
and  again  many  scattered  mementoes  were  grouped 
together.  It  seemed  as  if  every  pleasure  Marjorie 
had  had  since  she  came,  had  produced  something 
attractive  for  her  book. 

A  fancy  lace  paper  represented  the  big  box  of 
bonbons  that  her  father  had  sent  her  when  she 
had  her  sprained  ankle.  Many  photographs  there 
were,  for  Marjorie  had  learned  to  use  her  camera 
pretty  well,  and  Uncle  Steve  sometimes  took  snap- 
shots of  the  children  with  his  own  larger  camera. 
There  were  several  little  pictures  that  Stella  had 
painted  for  her,  an  old  tintype  that  Grandma  had 


MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

given  her,  a  feather  from  the  tail  of  Marjorie's 
pet  rooster,  and  many  such  trifles,  each  of  which 
brought  up  a  host  of  memories  of  pleasant  or 
comical  situations. 

The  sprained-ankle  episode  filled  up  several 
pages.  For  there  were  the  letters  that  Marjorie 
had  received  from  the  animals,  and  other  notes 
and  pictures  that  had  been  sent  to  her,  and  many 
mementoes  of  those  long  days  she  had  spent  in  bed. 
The  beautiful  book  Uncle  Steve  had  brought  her 
at  that  time  was  suggested  by  its  title,  cut  from 
the  paper  wrapper  which  had  been  on  the  book 
when  it  came.  Indeed,  it  seemed  that  there  was 
no  end  to  the  ingenious  ways  of  remembering 
things  that  Marjorie  wanted  to  remember.  A 
tiny,  bright  bird  feather  would  recall  the  walk 
she  took  with  Grandma  one  afternoon ;  a  pressed 
wild  flower  was  an  eloquent  reminder  of  Blossom 
Banks ;  and  a  large  strawberry  hull,  neatly  pasted 
into  place,  Marjorie  insisted  upon  to  remind  her 
of  the  day  when  she  said  "Boo"  to  Stella. 

Several  pages  were  devoted  to  souvenirs  from 
home,  and  Rosy  Posy's  illegible  scrawls  were  side 


A  MEMORY  BOOK  118 

by  side  with  neatly-written  postcards  from  her 
parents. 

All  of  these  things  Uncle  Steve  arranged  with 
the  utmost  care  and  taste,  and  Marjorie  soon 
learned  how  to  do  it  for  herself.  Some  things, 
such  as  letters  or  thin  cards,  must  be  pasted  in; 
heavier  cards  or  postcards  were  best  arranged  by 
cutting  slits  for  the  corners  and  tucking  them 
in;  while  more  bulky  objects,  such  as  pebbles,  a 
tiny  china  doll  or  a  wee  little  Teddy  Bear,  must 
be  very  carefully  tied  to  the  page  by  narrow  rib- 
bons put  through  slits  from  the  back. 

Marjorie  was  so  impetuous  and  hasty  in  her 
work  that  it  was  difficult  for  her  to  learn  to  do 
it  patiently  and  carefully.  Her  first  efforts  tore 
the  pages  and  were  far  from  being  well  done. 
But,  as  she  saw  the  contrast  between  her  own 
untidy  work  and  Uncle  Steve's  neat  and  careful 
effects,  she  tried  very  hard  to  improve,  and  as  the 
book  went  on  her  pages  grew  every  day  better  and 
more  careful. 

At  the  top  of  each  page  Uncle  Steve  would  write 
the  date  or  the  place  in  dainty,  graceful  letters; 


114  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

and  often  he  would  write  a  name  or  a  little  joke 
under  the  separate  souvenirs,  until,  as  time  went 
on,  the  book  became  one  of  Marjorie's  most  valued 
and  valuable  possessions. 


CHAPTER  IX 

THE    FRONT    STAIRS 

MARJORIE  had  been  at  Grandma  Sherwood's  about 
three  weeks,  and  as  a  general  thing  she  had  been  a 
pretty  good  little  girl.  She  had  tried  to  obey  her 
mother's  orders,  and  though  it  was  not  easy  to 
keep  her  troublesome  curls  always  just  as  they 
ought  to  be  and  her  ribbon  always  in  place,  yet 
she  had  accomplished  this  fairly  well,  and  Grand- 
ma said  that  she  really  deserved  credit  for  it. 

But  to  obey  Grandma  implicitly  was  harder  still. 
Not  that  Marjorie  ever  meant  to  disobey  or  ever 
did  it  wilfully,  but  she  was  very  apt  to  forget  and, 
too,  it  seemed  to  be  natural  for  her  to  get  into 
mischief.  And  as  it  was  always  some  new  sort 
of  mischief,  which  no  one  could  have  thought  of 
forbidding,  and  as  she  was  always  so  sorry  for 
it  afterward,  there  was  more  or  less  repentance  and 
forgiveness  going  on  all  the  time. 

115 


116  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

But,  on  the  whole,  she  was  improving,  and  Uncle 
Steve  sometimes  said  that  he  believed  she  would 
live  to  grow  up  without  tumbling  off  of  something 
and  breaking  her  neck,  after  all. 

Grandma  Sherwood  found  it  far  easier  to  for- 
give Marjorie's  unintentional  mischief  than  her 
forgetting  of  explicit  commands. 

One  command  in  particular  had  caused  trouble 
all  summer.  There  were  two  front  doors  to 
Grandma's  house  and  two  halls.  One  of  these 
halls  opened  into  the  great  drawing-room  on  one 
side  and  a  smaller  reception  room  on  the  other, 
where  callers  were  received.  The  stairs  in  this 
hall  were  of  polished  wood  and  were  kept  in  a 
state  of  immaculate,  mirror-like  shininess  by  Jane, 
who  took  great  pride  in  this  especial  piece  of  work. 

The  other  front  door  opened  into  a  hall  less 
pretentious.  This  hall  was  between  the  drawing- 
room  and  the  family  library,  and  the  stairs  here 
were  covered  with  thick,  soft  carpet. 

It  was  Grandma's  wish  that  the  members  of 
the  family  should  usually  use  the  carpeted  stairs, 
for  she  too  took  great  pride  in  the  glossy,  shin- 


THE  FRONT  STAIRS         .      117 

ing  surface  of  the  others.  Uncle  Steve  preferred 
the  carpeted  stairs,  anyway,  as  they  led  to  the 
upper  hall  which  opened  into  his  own  room,  and 
Grandma  invariably  used  them. 

As  a  means  of  distinction,  the  wooden  stairs 
were  habitually  called  the  Front  Stairs;  and, 
though  they  were  equally  front,  the  carpeted 
flight  was  always  spoken  of  as  the  Other  Stairs. 

From  the  first,  Marjorie  had  been  explicitly 
forbidden  to  go  up  and  down  the  Front  Stairs; 
and  from  the  first  Marjorie  had  found  this  rule 
most  difficult  to  remember. 

Rushing  from  her  play  into  the  house,  often 
with  muddy  or  dusty  shoes,  she  would  fly  into 
the  hall,  clatter  up  the  Front  Stairs,  and,  perhaps, 
down  again  and  out,  without  a  thought  of  her 
wrongdoing.  This  would  leave  footprints,  and 
often  scratches  and  heel-marks  on  the  beautiful 
steps,  which  meant  extra  work  for  Jane ;  and  even 
then  the  scratches  were  not  always  effaceable. 

Many  a  serious  talk  had  Grandma  and  Mar- 
jorie had  on  the  subject;  many  times  had  Mar- 
jorie faithfully  promised  to  obey  this  particular 


118  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

command ;  and,  alas !  many  times  had  the  child 
thoughtlessly  broken  her  promise. 

At  last,  Grandma  said:  "I  know,  my  dear,  you 
do  not  mean  to  forget,  but  you  do  forget.  Now 
this  forgetting  must  stop.  If  you  run  up  those 
Front  Stairs  again,  Marjorie,  I'm  going  to  pun- 
ish you." 

"Do,  Grandma,"  said  Marjorie,  cheerfully; 
"perhaps  that  will  make  me  stop  it.  For  honest 
and  true  I  just  resolve  I  won't  do  it,  and  then 
before  I  know  it  I'm  just  like  Jack  and  the  Bean- 
stalk, 'a-hitchet,  a-hatchet,  a-up  I  go!'  and, 
though  I  don't  mean  to,  there  I  am !" 

Grandma  felt  like  smiling  at  Marjorie's  naive 
confession,  but  she  said  very  seriously:  "That's 
the  trouble,  dearie,  you  do  forget  and  you  must 
be  made  to  remember.  I  hope  it  won't  be  neces- 
sary, but  if  it  is,  you'll  have  to  be  punished." 

"What  will  the  punishment  be,  Grandma?" 
asked  Marjorie,  with  great  interest.  She  was 
hanging  around  Mrs.  Sherwood's  neck  and  pat- 
ting her  face  as  she  talked.  There  was  great 
affection  between  these  two,  and  though  Marjorie 


THE  FRONT  STAIRS  119 

was  surprised  at  the  new  firmness  her  grand- 
mother was  showing,  she  felt  no  resentment,  but 
considerable  curiosity. 

"Never  mind ;  perhaps  you'll  never  deserve  pun- 
ishment and  then  you  will  never  know  what  it 
would  have  been.  Indeed,  I'm  not  sure  myself,  but 
if  you  don't  keep  off  those  Front  Stairs  we'll  both 
of  us  find  out  in  short  order." 

Grandma  was  smiling,  but  Marjorie  knew  from 
her  determined  tone  that  she  was  very  much  in 
earnest. 

For  several  days  after  that  Marjorie  kept  care- 
fully away  from  the  Front  Stairs,  except  when 
she  was  wearing  her  dainty  house  slippers.  It 
was  an  understood  exception  that,  when  dressed 
for  dinner  or  on  company  occasions  and  her  feet 
shod  with  light,  thin-soled  shoes,  Marjorie  might 
walk  properly  up  or  down  the  Front  Stairs.  The 
restriction  only  applied  to  her  heavy-soled  play 
shoes  or  muddied  boots. 

So  all  went  well,  and  the  question  of  punish- 
ment being  unnecessary,  it  was  almost  forgotten. 

One  morning,  Marjorie  was -getting  ready  to  go 


120  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

rowing  with  Carter.  Molly  was  to  go  too,  and  as 
the  girls  had  learned  to  sit  moderately  still  in 
the  boat,  the  good-natured  gardener  frequently 
took  them  on  short  excursions. 

It  was  a  perfect  summer  day,  and  Marjorie 
sang  a  gay  little  tune  as  she  made  herself  ready 
for  her  outing.  She  tied  up  her  dark  curls  with  a 
pink  ribbon,  and  as  a  hat  was  deemed  unnecessary 
by  her  elders,  she  was  glad  not  to  be  bothered 
with  one.  She  wore  a  fresh,  pink  gingham  dress 
and  thick,  heavy-soled  shoes,  lest  the  boat  should 
be  damp.  She  took  with  her  a  small  trowel,  for 
she  was  going  to  dig  some  ferns  to  bring  home; 
and  into  her  pocket  she  stuffed  a  little  muslin  bag, 
which  she  always  carried,  in  case  she  found  any- 
thing in  the  way  of  pebbles  or  shells  to  bring  home 
for  her  Memory  Book.  She  danced  down  the 
Other  Stairs,  kissed  Grandma  good-by,  and 
picking  up  her  basket  for  the  ferns,  ran  merrily 
off. 

Molly  was  waiting  for  her,  and  together  they 
trotted  down  the  sandy  path  to  the  boathouse.  It 
had  rained  the  day  before  and  the  path  was  a  bit 


THE  FRONT  STAIRS  121 

muddy,  but  with  heavy  shoes  the  children  did  not 
need  rubbers. 

"Isn't  it  warm?"  said  Molly.  "I  'most  wish  I'd 
worn  a  hat,  it's  so  sunny." 

"I  hate  a  hat,"  said  Marjorie,  "but  I'll  tell  you 
what,  Molly,  if  we  had  my  red  parasol  we  could 
hold  it  over  our  heads." 

"Just  the  thing,  Mopsy;  do  skip  back  and  get 
it.  I'll  hold  your  basket,  and  Carter  isn't  here 
yet." 

Marjorie  ran  back  as  fast  as  she  could,  pat- 
tering along  the  muddy  path  and  thinking  only  of 
the  red  parasol,  bounded  in  at  the  front  door  and 
up  the  Front  Stairs  ! 

Grandma  was  in  the  upper  hall,  and  her  heart 
sank  as  she  saw  the  child,  thoughtlessly  uncon- 
scious of  wrongdoing,  clatter  up  the  stairs,  her 
heavy  boots  splashing  mud  and  wet  on  every  pol- 
ished step. 

Her  heart  sank,  not  so  much  because  of  the 
mud  on  the  steps  as  because  of  this  new  proof  of 
Marjorie's  thoughtlessness. 

"My  dear  little  girl!"  she  said,  as  Marjorie 


MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

reached  the  top  step,  and  in  a  flash  Marjorie 
realized  what  she  had  done. 

Crestfallen  and  horrified,  she  threw  herself  into 
her  grandmother's  arms. 

"I'm  sorry,  Midget  dear,  but  I  cannot  break 
my  word.  You  know  what  I  told  you." 

"Yes,  Grandma,  and  /  am  so  sorry,  but  please, 
oh,  Grandma  dear, — can't  you  just  postpone  the 
punishment  till  to-morrow?  'Cause  Molly  and  I 
are  going  to  Blossom  Banks  to  dig  ferns,  and  it's 
such  a  beautiful  day  for  ferns." 

Grandma  Sherwood  hesitated.  It  almost  broke 
her  heart  to  deprive  the  child  of  her  holiday,  and 
yet  it  was  for  Marjorie's  own  good  that  an  at- 
tempt must  be  made  to  cure  her  of  her  carelessness. 

"No,  Marjorie;  I  cannot  postpone  the  punish- 
ment until  to-morrow.  If  you  wanted  to  go  row- 
ing to-day,  you  should  have  waited  to  run  up 
these  stairs  until  to-morrow.  You  didn't  postpone 
your  naughtiness,  so  I  cannot  postpone  its  pun- 
ishment." 

Marjorie  looked  dumfounded.  She  had  not  in- 
tended to  be  naughty,  but  also  she  had  never  sup- 


THE  FRONT  STAIRS  123 

posed  her  gentle  grandma  could  be  so  severe.  She 
looked  utterly  disconsolate,  and  said  in  despairing 
tones :  "But,  Grandma,  won't  you  ,let  me  go  rowing 
this  morning  and  give  me  the  punishment  this 
afternoon  ?  I  must  go ;  Molly  and  Carter  are  down 
by  the  boathouse  waiting  for  me !  Please,  Grand- 
ma !" 

So  difficult  was  it  for  Mrs.  Sherwood  to  resist 
the  child's  pleading  tones  that  her  own  voice  was 
more  stern  than  she  intended  to  make  it,  lest  she 
reveal  her  true  feeling. 

"No,  Marjorie;  you  have  been  very  naughty 
now,  and  so  you  must  be  punished  now.  Listen 
to  me.  I  shall  send  Jane  to  tell  Carter  to  go  back 
to  his  work  and  to  tell  Molly  to  go  home.  I'm 
sorry  to  spoil  your  pleasure,  but  remember  you 
have  really  spoiled  it  yourself." 

Marjorie  did  not  cry,  she  was  not  that  sort  of  a 
child.  But  she  had  a  broken-down,  wilted  air,  the 
very  despondency  of  which  almost  made  her  grand- 
mother relent.  Had  it  been  a  more  important 
occasion  she  might  have  done  so,  but  the  children 
could  go  on  the  river  any  day,  and  though  it  was 


124  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

a  very  real  disappointment  to  Marjorie  to  stay 
at  home,  yet  discipline  required  it. 

"Now,  Marjorie,"  went  on  Mrs.  Sherwood,  after 
Jane  had  been  despatched  on  her  errand,  "take  off 
those  muddy  shoes  and  set  them  on  the  top  step  of 
the  stairs." 

Rather  wondering  at  this  command,  Marjorie 
sat  down  on  the  top  step,  unlaced  her  shoes,  and 
did  with  them  as  she  had  been  bidden. 

"Now,  this  is  your  punishment,  my  child;  you 
came  up  these  stairs  when  you  had  been  told  not 
to  do  so:  now  you  may  spend  the  rest  of  the  day 
on  the  stairs.  You  are  not  to  leave  them  until 
six  o'clock  to-night.  With  the  muddy  steps  and 
your  muddy  shoes  in  front  of  your  eyes  all  day 
long,  you  may,  perhaps,  learn  to  remember  better 
in  future." 

Marjorie  could  scarcely  believe  her  ears.  To 
stay  on  the  stairs  all  day  long  seemed  a  funny 
punishment;  and  except  for  missing  the  row  on 
the  river,  it  did  not  seem  a  very  hard  one. 

"May  I  have  a  book,  Grandma,"  she  asked,  still 
a  little  bewildered  by  the  outlook. 


THE  FRONT  STAIRS  125 

Grandma  considered.  "Yes,"  she  said  at  last; 
"you  may  go  to  your  room,  put  on  your  worsted 
bedroom  slippers,  and  then  you  may  bring  back 
with  you  any  books  or  toys  you  care  for." 

"How  many?"  asked  Marjorie,  whose  spirits 
were  rising,  for  her  punishment  seemed  to  promise 
a  novel  experience. 

"As  many  as  you  can  carry  at  once,"  replied 
Grandma,  turning  aside  to  hide  a  smile. 

In  a  few  minutes  Marjorie  returned.  She  had 
turned  up  the  short,  full  skirt  of  her  pink  ging- 
ham frock  to  form  a  sort  of  bag,  and  into  it  she 
had  tumbled,  helter-skelter,  several  books,  some 
paper  and  pens,  her  paper-doll's  house,  her  paint- 
box, her  kitten,  a  few  odd  toys,  her  Memory  Book, 
and  her  clock.  Staggering  under  the  bulging 
load,  but  in  a  more  cheerful  frame  of  mind,  she 
reached  the  stairs  again. 

"I  brought  my  clock,"  she  observed,  "because  I 
shall  want  to  know  as  the  hours  go  by ;  but  I'll  be 
careful  not  to  scratch  the  stairs  with  it,  Grandma.'* 

"Your  carefulness  comes  too  late,  Marjorie.  I 
shall  have  to  send  for  a  man  from  town  to  repolish 


126  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

the  stairs,  anyway,  for  the  nails  in  the  heels  of  your 
heavy  boots  have  entirely  ruined  them." 

"Oh,  Grandma,  I  am  so  sorry ;  and  if  you  think 
a  day  won't  be  punishment  enough,  I'll  stay  for  a 
week.  Do  I  get  anything  to  eat?"  she  added,  as  a 
sudden  thought  of  their  picnic  luncheon  occurred 
to  her.  "You  might  just  send  me  the  picnic 
basket." 

"Jane  will  bring  you  your  dinner,"  said  her 
grandmother,  shortly,  for  she  began  to  think  the 
punishment  she  had  devised  was  more  like  a  new 
game. 

"Goody !"  cried  Marjorie.  "I  do  love  dinner  on 
a  tray.  Send  plenty  of  strawberries,  please;  and, 
Grandma,  don't  think  that  I'm  not  truly  being 
punished,  for  I  am.  I  shall  think  over  my  naughti- 
ness a  good  deal,  and  when  I  look  at  those  awful 
shoes,  I  don't  see  how  I  could  have  done  such  a 
wicked  thing.  But  you  know  yourself,  Grandma, 
that  we  ought  to  make  the  best  of  everything,  and 
so  I'll  just  get  what  fun  I  can  out  of  my  books 
and  my  strawberries." 

Mrs.  Sherwood  went  away,  uncertain  whether 


THE  FRONT  STAIRS  127 

she  had  succeeded  in  what  she  had  intended  to 
do  or  not.  She  knew  Marjorie  would  not  leave  the 
stairs  without  permission,  for  the  little  girl  was 
exceedingly  conscientious. 

Left  to  herself,  Marjorie  began  to  take  in  the 
situation. 

She  carefully  unpacked  her  dressful  of  things, 
and  arranged  them  on  the  steps.  In  this  she  be- 
came greatly  interested.  It  was  a  novel  way  of 
living,  to  go  always  up  and  down  and  never  side- 
ways. She  planned  her  home  for  the  day  with 
care  and  thought.  She  decided  to  reserve  a  nar- 
row space  next  the  banister  to  go  up  and  down; 
and  to  arrange  her  belongings  on  the  other  side  of 
the  staircase.  She  put  her  clock  on  the  top  step 
that  she  might  see  it  from  any  point  of  view ;  and 
on  the  other  steps  she  laid  neatly  her  books,  her 
paint-box,  her  writing  things,  and  her  toys.  She 
became  absorbed  in  this  occupation,  and  delight- 
edly scrambled  up  and  down,  arranging  and  re- 
arranging her  shelved  properties. 

"It's  a  good  deal  like  my  shelf  in  my  own  room," 
she  thought,  "except  it's  all  in  little  pieces  instead 


128  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

of  straight  ahead.  But  that  doesn't  really  mat- 
ter, and  I'm  not  sure  but  I  like  it  better  this  way. 
Now,  I  think  I'll  write  a  letter  to  Mother,  first,  and 
confess  this  awful  thing  I've  done.  I  always  feel 
better  after  I  get  my  confessions  off  of  my  mind, 
and  when  Jane  brings  my  dinner  I  expect  she'll 
take  it  to  be  mailed." 

Marjorie  scrambled  up  to  a  step  near  the  top 
where  her  little  writing  tablet  was.  She  arranged 
her  paper  and  took  up  her  pen,  only  to  discover 
that  in  her  haste  she  had  forgotten  to  bring  any 
ink. 

"But  it  doesn't  matter,"  she  thought,  cheer- 
fully, "for  it  would  have  upset  in  my  dress  prob- 
ably, and,  anyway,  I  can  just  as  well  use  a 
pencil." 

But  the  pencil's  point  was  broken,  and,  of 
course,  it  had  not  occurred  to  her  to  bring  a  knife. 
She  had  promised  Grandma  not  to  leave  the  stairs 
without  permission,  so  there  was  nothing  to  do  but 
to  give  up  the  idea  of  letter-writing,  and  occupy 
lierself  with  something  else. 

"And,  anyway,"  she  thought,  "it  must  be  nearly 


THE  FRONT  STAIRS  129 

dinner  time,  for  I've  been  here  now  for  hours  and 
hours." 

She  glanced  at  the  clock,  and  found  to  her 
amazement  that  it  was  just  twenty  minutes  since 
her  grandmother  had  left  her  alone. 

"The  clock  must  have  stopped !"  she  said,  bend- 
ing her  ear  to  listen. 

But  it  hadn't,  and  Marjorie  suddenly  realized 
that  a  whole  day,  solitary  and  alone,  is  an  inter- 
minable length  of  time. 

"Oh,  dear,"  she  sighed,  putting  her  head  down 
on  her  arms  on  the  step  above,  "I  do  wish  I  had 
gone  up  the  Other  Stairs!  This  day  is  going  to 
last  forever !  I  just  know  it  is !  But  if  it  ever 
does  get  over,  I  never  want  to  see  the  Front  Stairs 
again !" 


CHAPTER  X 

A    LONG    DAY 

MARJORIE  had  expected  to  derive  much  satisfac- 
tion, during  her  sojourn  on  the  stairs,  from  play- 
ing with  her  kitten.  But  Puff  ran  away  almost 
immediately,  and  no  amount  of  calling  or  coaxing 
could  bring  her  back. 

Sighing  deeply,  Marjorie  tried  to  amuse  herself 
reading  the  books  she  had  brought.  But  the  light 
was  not  very  good  on  the  stairs,  and  somehow,  too, 
the  books  seemed  to  have  lost  their  interest.  Think- 
ing over  what  she  could  do  to  make  the  time  pass, 
she  remembered  her  paint-box.  She  was  fond  of 
painting,  and  concluded  she  would  try  to  paint  a 
little  sketch  of  the  stairs  to  put  in  her  Memory 
Book  to  represent  this  dreadful  day. 

"Not  that  I  need  anything  to  make  me  remem- 
ber it,"  she  thought,  "for  I'm  sure  I  can  never, 
130 


A  LONG  DAY  131 

never,  never  forget  it."  But  when  she  had  her  other 
materials  all  prepared  she  realized  she  had  no 
glass  of  water,  so,  of  course,  her  paints  were  use- 
less. 

Even  her  paper-doll's  house  seemed  to  have  lost 
its  flavor.  She  had  no  new  things  to  paste  in,  nor 
had  she  any  paste. 

She  began  to  learn  what  a  lot  of  little  things 
make  up  the  comforts  of  life,  and,  utterly  dis- 
couraged, she  tried  to  think  of  something  to  while 
away  the  time. 

At  last  she  concluded  she  would  start  at  the 
top  and  go  down,  sitting  on  each  step  five  minutes. 
"This,"  she  calculated  to  herself,  "will  fill  up  a 
long  time.  There  are  seventeen  steps,  and  seven- 
teen times  five  is, — well,  I  don't  know  how  much  it 
is,  exactly,  but  it  must  be  several  hours.  Per- 
haps, when  I  get  down  to  the  bottom  it  will  be 
afternoon !" 

With  a  reviving  sense  of  interest  in  something, 
she  sat  on  the  top  step  and  waited  for  five  minutes 
to  pass.  Never  had  a  period  of  time  seemed  so 
long.  It  was  twice  as  long  as  a  church  service, 


132  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

and  a  dozen  times  as  long  as  the  ride  in  the  cars 
when  she  came  up  to  Grandma's.  But  at  last  the 
five  minutes  was  up,  and  with  a  little  jounce  Mar- 
jorie  slid  down  to  the  next  step,  and  prepared 
to  spend  another  five.  This  was  longer  yet,  and 
at  the  third  step  Marjorie  gave  up  this  plan, 
as  being  the  most  dreadful  thing  she  had  ever 
tried. 

She  began  to  feel  like  crying,  but  was  deter- 
mined not  to  do  anything  so  foolish. 

Slowly  and  wearily  the  morning  dragged  away, 
and  at  last,  when  Marjorie  had  begun  to  feel 
that  lassitude  which  comes  from  utter  weariness, 
Jane  appeared  with  a  tray  of  luncheon. 

Marjorie  brightened  up  at  once.  "Oh,  Jane," 
she  cried,  "I'm  so  glad  to  see  you !  I  am  so  lone- 
some !" 

"Pore  lamb!"  said  Jane,  sympathetically;  "I'm 
thinkin'  ye're  purty  nigh  dead,  be  now.  But  here's 
the  foine  lunch  for  ye.  See,  darlint,  here's  chicken 
and  strawberries  and  jelly  and  all  the  things  ye  like 
best !  Cheer  up,  now,  and  ate  yer  food." 

"Indeed,  I  will !     Oh,  Jane,  what  lovely  things  \ 


A  LONG  DAY 

Fresh  little  cakes,  with  pink  icing;  and  goose- 
berry jam!  But  don't  go  away,  Jane." 

"I  must,  Miss  Midget.  Yer  grandma  towld  me 
not  to  shtay  wid  yez." 

"But  I'm  so  lonesome,"  said  Marjorie,  who  had 
just  seemed  to  realize  what  the  main  trouble 
was. 

But  Jane  dared  not  disobey  orders,  and  setting 
the  tray  on  the  stairs,  she  went  away,  with  fond 
backward  glances  at  the  forlorn  little  figure  sit- 
ting there. 

However,  the  lonesomest  human  heart  is  bound 
to  cheer  up  a  little  under  the  influence  of  a  spe- 
cially fine  feast,  and  as  Marjorie  ate  her  luncheon 
and  drank  a  big  glass  of  milk,  the  detested  stairs 
began  to  assume  a  rather  more  attractive  air. 

And  so,  when  Jane  came  to  take  the  tray  away 
she  found  on  it  only  empty  dishes,  while  Marjorie, 
who  was  cuddled  up  in  a  corner,  reading,  looked 
at  her  with  a  smile. 

"The  day  is  half  gone !"  she  announced,  tri- 
umphantly. "And,  Jane,  won't  you  ask  Grandma 
if  you  may  bring  me  a  glass  of  water  so  I  can 


134  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

paint.  But  tell  her  I  don't  want  it  unless  she's 
perfectly  willing." 

Grandma  smiled  a  little  at  the  stipulation,  but 
sent  Marjorie  the  glass  of  water,  and  the  child 
filled  up  half  an  hour  or  more  painting  pictures. 
But  the  cramped  position  was  very  uncomforta- 
ble, and  Marjorie  grew  restless  and  longed  for 
exercise.  Suddenly  an  inspiration  seized  her,  and 
she  concluded  it  would  be  great  fun  to  slide  down 
the  banister.  For  a  few  times  this  was  amusing, 
but  it  stung  her  hands,  and  finally  she  fell  off 
and  bumped  her  head  rather  soundly. 

"It's  lucky  I  fell  on  the  stair  side,"  she  said  to 
herself,  rubbing  the  lump  on  her  forehead,  "for  I 
promised  Grandma  not  to  leave  the  stairs,  and  if 
I  had  fallen  off  on  the  other  side  I  should  have 
broken  my  promise !" 

The  afternoon  hours  seemed  to  move  rather 
more  slowly  than  the  morning.  Occasionally,  Mar- 
jorie's  naturally  cheerful  disposition  would  assert 
itself  and  she  would  bravely  endeavor  to  occupy 
herself  pleasantly  in  some  way.  But  there  was 
so  little  light,  and  stairs  are  uncomfortable  at 


A  LONG  DAY  185 

best  to  sit  on,  and  the  silence  and  loneliness  were 
so  oppressive,  that  her  efforts  successively  failed. 

And,  though  Marjorie  did  not  realize  it,  her 
spirits  were  depressed  because  of  the  mere  fact 
that  she  was  undergoing  punishment.  Had  she 
been  there  of  her  own  free  choice  she  could  have 
played  happily  on  the  stairs  all  day  long;  or  had 
the  opportunity  been  bestowed  upon  her,  as  a  great 
and  special  treat,  the  hours  would  have  flown  by. 

At  last,  exhausted,  Nature  conquered  all  else, 
and,  seated  on  one  step,  Marjorie  folded  her  arms 
on  the  step  above,  laid  her  head  down  upon  them, 
and  went  to  sleep. 

And  it  was  thus  that  Uncle  Steve  found  her 
when  he  came  home  at  four  o'clock. 

"Hello,  Queen  of  Mischief!"  he  cried,  gayly. 
"Wake  up  here  and  tell  me  all  about  it !" 

"Oh,  Uncle  Steve!"  cried  Marjorie,  waking, 
flushed  from  her  nap,  and  delighted  at  having 
some  one  to  speak  to;  "do  you  know  why  I'm  here? 
Did  Grandma  tell  you?" 

"Yes,  she  told  me;  and  she  told  me  something 
else,  too.  She  says  that  if  you  are  properly  sorry 


136  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

for  what  you  did, — really,  awfully  sorry,  you 
know, — that  you  may  be  excused  for  the  rest  of 
the  day  and  may  go  out  driving  with  me." 

"Well,  I  just  rather  guess  I  am  sorry !  I'm  two 
sorries.  One,  because  I  disobeyed  Grandma  and 
tracked  up  her  Front  Stairs;  and  another,  be- 
cause I've  had  this  terrible,  dreadful  punishment." 

Uncle  Steve  looked  at  his  niece  a  little  gravely. 
"Which  are  you  more  sorry  for,  Marjorie,"  he 
asked :  "because  you  did  wrong  or  because  you  were 
punished  ?" 

Marjorie  considered.  "About  equal,  I  think. 
No,  I'm  more  sorry  I  did  wrong,  because  if  I 
hadn't,  I  wouldn't  have  had  the  punishment;  and, 
besides,  it  hurt  Grandma's  feelings." 

"Which  did?" 

"Why,  my  running  up  the  stairs!  Of  course, 
the  punishment  didn't  hurt  her,"  and  Marjorie 
laughed  merrily  at  the  idea. 

"I  think  it  hurt  her  more  than  it  did  you,"  said 
Uncle  Steve,  but  Marjorie  only  stared,  open-eyed, 
at  this  nonsense. 

"Well,  anyway,  it's  all  over  now ;  so  bundle  your 


A  LONG  DAY  137 

belongings  back  where  they  belong  and  get  your- 
self ready  for  a  drive." 

Marjorie  flew  to  obey,  but  meeting  Grandma  in 
the  hall,  she  dropped  her  dressful  of  books  and 
toys,  and  flung  herself  into  Mrs.  Sherwood's  wait- 
ing arms. 

"Oh,  Grandma!"  she  cried.  "I  am  so  sorry  I 
slam-banged  upstairs,  and  I'll  never  do  it  again, 
and  I  had  a  perfectly  awful,  dreadful  time,  but  of 
course  you  had  to  punish  me  for  your  own  good, — • 
I  mean  for  my  own  good, — but  now  it's  all  over, 
and  you  love  me  just  the  same,  don't  you?" 

The  ardent  embrace  in  progress  left  no  doubt  of 
the  affection  still  existing  between  the  pair,  and 
if  Marjorie's  hugs  were  of  the  lovingly  boisterous 
variety,  Grandma  Sherwood  appeared  quite  willing 
to  submit  to  them. 

"I  don't  know,"  she  thought  to  herself,  after 
Marjorie  had  gone  for  her  drive,  "whether  that 
child  is  impervious  to  discipline  or  whether  she  is 
unusually  capable  of  receiving  and  assimilating 
it." 

But  at  any  rate,  Marjorie  never  went  up  or 


138  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

down  the  front  stairs  again,  except  on  the  occa- 
sions when  it  was  distinctly  permissible. 

The  drive  with  Uncle  Steve  was  a  succession  of 
delights.  This  was  partly  because  it  was  such  a 
sudden  and  pleasant  change  from  the  abominable 
staircase  and  partly  because  Uncle  Steve  was  such 
an  amiable  and  entertaining  companion. 

The  two  were  alone  in  an  old-fashioned,  low 
basket-phaeton;  and  Uncle  Steve  was  willing  to 
stop  whenever  Marjorie  wished,  to  note  an  espe- 
cially beautiful  bird  on  a  neighboring  branch  or 
an  extra-fine  blossom  of  some  wild  flower. 

Also,  Uncle  Steve  seemed  to  know  the  names  of 
all  the  trees  and  flowers  and  birds  they  chanced  to 
see.  Greatly  interested  in  these  things,  Marjorie 
learned  much  nature-lore,  and  the  lessons  were  but 
play.  Tying  the  horse  to  a  fence,  the  two  cronies 
wandered  into  the  wood  and  found,  after  much 
careful  search,  some  Indian  Pipes  of  an  exquisite 
perfection.  These  fragile,  curious  things  were 
Marjorie's  great  delight,  and  she  carried  them 
carefully  home  for  her  Memory  Book. 

"They  won't  be  very  satisfactory  as  mementoes," 


A  LONG  DAY  139 

warned  Uncle  Steve,  "for  they  will  turn  brown  and 
lose  their  fair,  white  beauty." 

Marjorie  looked  regretful,  but  an  inspiration 
came  to  her. 

"I'll  tell  you  what,  Uncle  Steve,  I'll  get  Stella 
to  draw  them  in  my  book  and  paint  them.  She's 
so  clever  at  copying  flowers,  and  I'm  sure  she  can 
do  it," 

"Let  her  try  it,  then,  and  if  she  doesn't  succeed 
I'll  photograph  them  for  you,  so  you'll  have  at 
least  a  hint  of  the  lovely  things." 

Hand  in  hand  they  walked  through  the  wood, 
spying  new  beauties  here  and  there.  Sometimes 
they  sat  on  a  fallen  log  to  rest  a  bit  or  to  discuss 
some  new  marvel  in  Nature's  kingdom. 

At  last,  as  the  sun  was  sinking  low  in  the  west, 
they  left  the  wood,  untied  old  Betsy,  who  was  pa- 
tiently waiting  for  them,  and  jogged  along  home- 
ward. 

"Punishment  is  a  strange  thing,"  said  Marjorie 
to  Grandma,  as  they  were  having  their  little  "twi- 
light talk"  that  evening,  before  the  child  went  to 
bed. 


140  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

"Why?"  asked  Grandma. 

"Because  it  makes  you  remember,"  said  Mar- 
jorie,  slowly;  "I  don't  see  why  I  couldn't  remem- 
ber to  keep  off  the  Front  Stairs,  just  because  you 
told  me  to,  but  somehow  I  couldn't.  Now,  after 
to-day,  I'm  sure  I  shall  never  forget  again." 

"That's  the  difference,  my  child,  between  youth 
and  age.  You  are  young  and  careless  of  other 
people's  wishes.  I  want  you  to  learn  to  consider 
others  before  yourself,  and  to  remember  to  do  so 
without  a  dreadful  punishment  to  fix  it  in  your 
memory." 

"It's  lucky,  isn't  it,  that  I  don't  get  punished 
for  all  the  naughty  things  I  do?  It  would  keep 
me  busy  being  punished  most  of  the  time." 

"You  are  a  mischievous  child,  Marjorie;  but 
your  mischief  is  always  the  result  of  carelessness 
or  forgetfulness.  I  have  never  known  you  pur- 
posely to  disobey  me  or  deliberately  to  cut  up 
some  naughty  trick." 

"No,  I  don't,  Grandma;  often  I'm  being  just  as 
good  as  an  angel  and  as  quiet  as  a  mouse,  when 
suddenly  something  pops  into  my  head  that  would 


A  LONG  DAY  141 

be  fun  to  do;  and  I  fly  and  do  it,  before  I  think, 
and  just  about  every  time  it's  something  wrong!" 

"Then  suppose  you  try  to  act  more  slowly. 
When  you  think  of  some  piece  of  fun,  pause  a  mo- 
ment, to  make  sure  that  it  isn't  mischief.  There's 
quite  enough  innocent  fun  in  the  world  to  keep  you 
busy  all  day,  and  every  day." 

"I  'spect  there  is ;  and  truly,  Grandma,  after 
this,  when  I  want  to  cut  up  jinks,  I'll  wait  until 
I  can  think  it  out,  whether  they're  good  jinks  or 
bad  jinks!  Will  that  do?" 

"That  will  do  admirably,"  said  Grandma,  smil- 
ing as  she  kissed  the  little  girl ;  "if  you  go  through 
life  on  that  principle  and  if  you  have  judgment 
enough — and  I  think  you  have — to  tell  'good 
jinks'  from  'bad  jinks,'  you  will  probably  have 
plenty  of  good  times  without  any  necessity  for 
punishment." 

"Then  that's  all  right,"  said  Marjorie,  and  feel- 
ing that  her  !ife  problems  were  all  settled,  she 
dropped  off  to  sleep. 


CHAPTER  XI 

THE    DUNNS 

"MARJORIE,"  said  Mrs.  Sherwood,  one  morning, 
"do  you  know  where  Mrs.  Dunn  lives?" 

"Yes,  Grandma;  down  the  river-road,  toward 
the  blacksmith's." 

"Yes,  that's  right;  and  I  wish  you  would  go 
down  there  for  me  and  carry  a  small  basket.  There 
isn't  any  one  else  I  can  send  this  morning  and  I 
have  just  heard  that  she  is  quite  ill." 

"They're  awfully  poor  people,  aren't  they?  Are 
you  sending  them  something  nice?" 

"Yes ;  some  food.  Mrs.  Dunn  scalded  her  hands 
severely  last  night,  and  I  fear  she  will  not  be  able 
to  work  for  several  days.  So  if  you  will  carry 
them  these  things  for  their  dinner,  I  will  try  to 
get  down  there  myself  this  afternoon." 

"Of  course  I  will,  Grandma;  I'm  glad  to  help 
142 


THE  DUNNS  143 

the  poor  people.  May  I  ask  Molly  to  go  with 
me?" 

"Why,  yes;  I  don't  care.  If  there  are  two  of 
you,  you  can  carry  more  things.  Run  over  after 
her,  and  I'll  have  the  baskets  ready  by  the  time 
you  get  back." 

With  a  hop  and  a  skip,  Marjorie  took  the  short- 
cut across  the  fields  to  Molly's  house.  It  was  a 
beautiful  summer  morning,  and  Marjorie  didn't 
stop  more  than  half  a  dozen  times,  to  watch  the 
crows  or  the  bees  or  the  clouds  or  a  hop-toad. 

She  captured  Molly,  and  after  waiting  for  that 
dishevelled  young  person  to  scramble  into  a  clean 
frock,  the  two  girls  hopped  and  skipped  back 
again. 

Marjorie  was  somewhat  inexperienced  in  the 
practical  matters  of  charity,  and  looked  with  sur- 
prise at  the  large  quantity  of  substantial  viands. 

"There  is  a  large  family  of  the  Dunns,"  ob- 
served Grandma,  "and  they're  all  blessed  with 
healthy  appetites.  These  things  won't  go  t» 
waste." 

"Are  there  children?"  asked  Marjorie. 


MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

"Yes,  indeed,  four  of  them.  You  must  see  how 
Mrs.  Dunn  is  and  find  out  if  she's  badly  hurt.  Ask 
her  what  she  wants  especially,  and  tell  her  I  am 
coming  this  afternoon,  and  I'll  carry  it  to  her." 

The  girls  trotted  away  with  the  well-filled 
baskets,  and  Grandma  Sherwood  looked  after  them 
a  little  uncertainly,  as  she  saw  how  preoccupied 
they  were  in  their  own  conversation,  and  remem- 
bered how  careless  Marjorie  was,  and  how  prone 
to  mischief. 

"Thim  scalawags  '11  be  afther  havin*  a  picnic 
wid  thim  baskets,"  prophesied  Eliza,  as  she  too 
watched  the  children's  departure. 

Grandma  Sherwood  laughed.  "I  hardly  think 
they'll  do  that,"  she  said;  "but  they're  liable  to 
set  down  the  baskets,  and  go  hunting  for  wild 
flowers  or  something,  and  never  think  of  their 
errand  again." 

But,  on  the  contrary,  the  children  were  quite  in- 
terested in  their  mission. 

"Your  grandma  is  an  awful  good  woman,"  ob- 
served Molly. 

"Yes,  she  is,"  agreed  Marjorie;  "it's  lovely  of 


THE  DUNNS  145 

her  to  send  all  these  good  things  to  poor  people. 
It  must  be  awful  to  be  so  poor  that  you  don't  have 
enough  to  eat !" 

"Yes,  but  it  must  be  lovely  when  the  baskets 
come  in." 

"But  they  don't  always  come  in,"  said  Marjorie. 

"They  must,"  declared  Molly,  with  an  air  of 
conviction ;  "if  they  didn't,  the  poor  people  would 
have  nothing  to  eat,  and  then  they  would  die ;  and 
you  know  yourself,  we  never  hear  of  anybody 
dying  of  starvation  around  here." 

"No;  not  around  here,  maybe.  But  in  China 
they  drop  off  by  millions,  just  from  starvation." 

"Well,  they  wouldn't  if  your  grandmother  was 
there.  She'd  send  baskets  to  every  one  of  them." 

"I  believe  she  would,"  said  Marjorie,  laughing; 
"she'd  manage  it  somehow." 

By  this  time  they  had  reached  the  Dunns'  do- 
main. At  least  they  had  come  to  a  broken-down 
gate  in  a  tumble-down  fence,  which  Marjorie  knew 
was  the  portal  of  their  destination.  In  their  en- 
deavors to  open  the  rickety  gate  the  girls  pushed 
it  over,  and  nearly  fell  over,  themselves. 


146  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

But  carefully  holding  their  baskets  they  climbed 
over  the  pile  of  fallen  pickets  and  followed  the 
grass-grown  path  to  the  house. 

And  a  forlorn  enough  house  it  was.  Every- 
thing  about  it  betokened  not  only  poverty  but 
shiftlessness.  Marjorie  was  not  experienced 
enough  to  know  how  often  the  former  is  the  rej 
suit  of  the  latter,  and  her  heart  was  full  of  pity 
for  people  who  must  live  in  such  comfortless  sur- 
roundings. The  little  old  cottage  was  unpainted, 
and  the  front  porch  was  in  such  a  dilapidated  con- 
dition that  one  step  was  entirely  missing  and  sev- 
eral floor-boards  were  gone. 

"It's  like  walking  a  tight-rope,"  said  Marjorie, 
as  she  picked  her  way  carefully  along  what  she 
hoped  was  a  sound  plank.  "But  it's  rather  excit- 
ing. I  wonder  if  we  can  get  in." 

There  was  no  bell,  and  she  tapped  loudly  on 
the  door. 

Almost  instantly  it  was  opened  by  a  child  whose 
appearance  almost  made  Marjorie  scream  out  with 
laughter. 

A  little  girl  of  about  ten,  dressed  in  a  bright 


THE  DUNNS  147 

pink  skirt  and  a  bright  blue  waist,  stood  before 
them.  This  startling  color  combination  was  en- 
hanced by  a  red  sash,  which,  though  faded  in 
streaks,  was  wide  and  tied  at  the  back  in  a  volumi- 
nous bow.  The  girl's  naturally  straight  hair  had 
apparently  been  urged  by  artificial  means  to  curl  in 
ringlets,  but  only  a  part  of  it  had  succumbed  to 
the  hot  iron.  The  rest  fairly  bristled  in  its  stiff 
straightness,  and  the  whole  mop  was  tied  up  with 
a  large  bow  of  red  ribbon. 

This  rainbow-hued  specimen  of  humanity 
opened  the  door  with  a  flourish  and  bowed  to  the 
visitors  with  an  air  of  extreme  elegance. 

Marjorie  looked  at  her  in  astonishment.  The 
gorgeous  trappings  and  the  formal  demeanor  of 
the  child  made  her  think  she  must  have  mistaken 
the  house. 

"Is  this  Mrs.  Dunn's  house?"  she  inquired,  with 
some  hesitation. 

"Yes ;  I'm  Miss  Dunn,"  said  the  child,  with  such 
a  ridiculous  air  of  affectation  that  Molly  giggled 
outright. 

"Yes,"  Miss  Dunn  went  on,  "I  am  the  eldest 


148  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

daughter.  My  name  is  Ella.  They  call  me  the 
Elegant  Ella,  but  I  don't  mind." 

"I  am  Marjorie  Maynard  and  Mrs.  Sherwood  is 
my  grandmother.  She  heard  your  mother  was  ill 
and  she  sent  her  these  baskets." 

"How  kind  of  her !"  exclaimed  the  Elegant  Ella, 
clasping  her  hands  and  rolling  up  her  eyes. 
"Won't  you  come  in?" 

As  Marjorie  and  Molly  had  been  with  difficulty 
balancing  themselves  on  the  broken  boards  of  the 
porch,  they  were  glad  to  accept  the  invitation. 

Their  first  glance  at  the  interior  of  the  cottage 
showed  that  the  rest  of  the  family  and  the  ways 
of  the  house  did  not  at  all  harmonize  with  the 
manner  and  appearance  of  the  eldest  daughter. 

Everything  was  of  the  poorest,  and  there  was 
no  attempt  at  order  or  thrift. 

Mrs.  Dunn  sat  in  a  rockerless  rocking-chair,  her 
left  hand  wrapped  in  bandages  and  her  right  hand 
holding  a  book  which  she  was  reading. 

As  the  girls  entered  she  threw  the  book  on  the 
floor  and  smiled  at  them  pleasantly. 

"Walk  right  in,"  she  said,  "and  take  seats  if 


THE  DUNNS  149 

you  can  find  any.  Hoopsy  Topsy,  get  off  that 
chair  this  minute  and  give  it  to  the  ladies !  Dibbs, 
you  lift  Plumpy  out  of  the  other  one,  quick! 
There !  Now  you  girls  set  down  and  rest  your- 
selves! Did  you  bring  them  baskets  for  us? 
Lawsee!  What  a  good  woman  Mis'  Sherwood  is, 
to  be  sure!  Now  ain't  that  just  like  her!  She's 
so  kind  and  gen'rous-hearted  that  she  makes  it  a 
pleasure  f er  folks  to  get  all  scalted  with  hot  water ! 
Ella,  you  fly  round  and  empty  them  baskets  so's 
the  young  ladies  can  take  them  home  again.  But 
you  set  a  while,  girls,  and  visit." 

"Are  you  much  hurt,  Mrs.  Dunn?"  asked  Mar- 
jorie.  "And  how  did  it  happen?" 

"Hurt !  Land  sakes,  I  guess  I  am !  Why,  the 
hull  kittle  of  boilin'  water  just  doused  itself  on 
my  hand  and  foot !" 

"That's  why  Ma  didn't  rise  to  greet  you,"  ex- 
plained the  Elegant  Ella,  and  again  Molly  had 
hard  work  to  keep  her  face  straight  as  she  noted 
the  girl's  comical  efforts  at  etiquette. 

"Aw,  you  keep  still,  Ella,"  said  her  mother; 
"you  ain't  got  no  call  to  talk  to  the  young  ladies." 


150  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

But  although  Mrs.  Dunn  apparently  tried  to 
subdue  her  elegant  daughter,  yet  it  was  plain  to 
be  seen  that  she  greatly  admired  the  flower  of 
the  family,  and  spoke  thus  merely  from  a  pretended 
modesty. 

"Ella's  so  fond  of  dress,"  said  Mrs.  Dunn,  "that 
she  jest  don't  hev  time  to  bother  with  housekeepin'. 
So  Hoopsy  Topsy  does  it,  and  that's  why  we 
ain't  so  slick  as  we  might  be.  But  fer  a  child  of 
eight,  I  must  say  Hoopsy  Topsy  does  wonderful 
well." 

Mrs.  Dunn's  pride  in  her  offspring  was  unmis- 
takable, and  Hoopsy  Topsy,  who  quite  understood 
she  was  being  complimented,  smiled  and  looked 
happily  self-conscious. 

The  novelty  of  the  scene  quite  fascinated  Mar- 
jorie.  She  had  expected  that  abject  poverty 
would  leave  its  victims  a  despondent,  down-hearted 
set  of  people;  and  instead  of  that  she  found  them 
not  only  pleasant  and  amiable,  but  seemingly 
happy  and  care-free. 

"My  grandmother  said,  Mrs.  Dunn,"  said  Mar- 
jorie,  "that  if  you  would  tell  me  of  anything  you 


THE  DUNNS  151 

specially  want  she  would  come  this  afternoon  and 
bring  it  to  you." 

"My !  ain't  she  good !"  said  Mrs.  Dunn.  "Well, 
if  she  don't  mind,  I'd  like  some  old  linen  to  wrap 
around  the  burns.  You  see,  I  am  scalted  pretty 
bad  and  it'll  be  a  while  'fore  I  kin  get  to  work 
again.  But,  of  course,  the  children  are  right 
handy,  an'  ef  we  jest  have  a  stove  an'  a  bed  we  can 
scratch  along  somehow.  Ella,  she's  more  hifalutin. 
She'd  like  red  plush  sofys  and  lace  curtings.  But 
I  say,  'Land,  child !  What's  the  use  of  worrying  ? 
If  you  can't  have  them  things,  you  can't !'  So, 
Ella,  she  makes  the  best  of  what  she  has,  and  I 
must  say  she  doos  have  wonderful  fine  taste." 

Marjorie  looked  at  the  Elegant  Ella,  and, 
though  she  didn't  agree  with  Mrs.  Dunn  as  to 
Ella's  taste,  she  felt  sorry  for  the  poor  child,  who 
wanted  the  refinements  of  life,  yet  was  doomed  to 
live  without  them. 

"It  is  of  no  consequence,"  said  Ella,  tossing  her 
head;  "we  are  very  comfortable;  and  though  I 
should  like  a  piano,  I  am  in  no  haste  to  procure 
one." 


MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

"Lucky  you  ain't,"  observed  her  mother,  "as 
I  don't  see  none  runnin'  this  way.  What's  the 
matter,  Dibbsy  dear?" 

Dibbs,  who  was  a  baby  of  four  years,  was  sit- 
ting on  the  floor  digging  both  his  fists  into  his 
eyes.  And  though  not  audibly  crying,  he  evidently 
was  not  entirely  happy. 

"Wants  to  know  what's  in  de  bastick !"  he  an- 
nounced without  hesitation. 

"So  you  shall,"  declared  his  fond  mother. 
"Hoopsy  Topsy,  lift  Dibbs  up  so  he  can  see  what 
the  young  ladies  brought." 

Nothing  loath,  Hoopsy  Topsy  lifted  up  her 
brother,  who  at  once  forgot  his  grief,  and, 
smiling  broadly,  began  to  investigate  the  bas- 
kets. 

"Land  sake,  Ella,"  said  Mrs.  Dunn,  "I  told  you 
to  empty  them  baskets  long  ago.  Whatever  have 
you  been  a-doin'  all  this  time?" 

"I  was  retying  my  sash,  Ma,"  exclaimed  Ella, 
reappearing  from  the  next  room;  "I  think  it  has 
more  of  an  air  tied  on  the  side." 

"Ain't  she  the  airy  piece !"  exclaimed  the  proud 


THE  DUNNS  153 

mother,  looking  at  her  daughter  with  undisguised 
admiration. 

But  it  seemed  to  Molly  and  Marjorie  that, 
if  anything  could  be  funnier  than  the  Ella 
who  first  met  them,  it  was  the  Ella  of  the  retied 
sash! 

Having  arranged  her  finery  to  her  satisfaction, 
Ella  proceeded  with  her  work  of  taking  the  things 
from  the  baskets,  and,  as  she  lifted  out  a  large 
piece  of  cold  beef,  a  delicious  pie,  some  tea  and 
sugar,  and  various  parcels  of  bread  and  butter, 
and  a  jar  of  apple-sauce,  the  little  Dunns  all  gath- 
ered round,  quite  unable  to  refrain  from  noisy 
expressions  of  glee  and  delight. 

" Jiminy  Christmas  !"  cried  Hoopsy  Topsy,  quite 
upsetting  Dibbs  as  she  made  a  rush  for  the 
pie.  And  then  Plumpy,  the  baby,  wiggled  his 
fat  little  self  across  the  floor  and  joined  the 
crowd  about  the  pie,  and  aided  by  the  Elegant 
Ella,  in  a  few  moments  there  wasn't  any  pie  at 
all. 

"Just  look  at  them,"  said  Mrs.  Dunn,  placidly ; 
"you'd  think  they  didn't  have  no  manners!  But 


154  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

they're  that  fond  of  pie,  you  wouldn't  believe! 
They  don't  never  get  none,  you  know,  and  so  it's  a 
novelty." 

"We'd  like  it  if  we  had  it  every  day,"  announced 
Hoopsy  Topsy,  with  her  mouth  full. 

"Pie  ev'y  day!"  agreed  Dibbs,  as  he  content- 
edly munched  his  piece.  The  whole  scene  made  a 
great  impression  on  the  two  visitors,  but  they  were 
affected  quite  differently.  Marjorie  felt  a  strong 
inclination  to  get  away  as  soon  as  she  could,  for, 
though  she  felt  very  sorry  for  the  poor  people 
and  was  glad  to  give  them  things,  yet  the  situation 
was  not  at  all  attractive,  and  having  done  her 
errand,  she  was  quite  ready  to  go. 

Not  so  Molly.  That  active  and  energetic  young 
person  was  dismayed  at  the  untidiness  and  dis- 
comfort all  about,  and  felt  a  strong  desire  at  least 
to  alleviate  it. 

"Mrs.  Dunn,"  she  said,  "of  course  with  your 
injured  hand  and  foot  you  can't  sweep.  Mayn't  I 
just  take  a  broom  and  brush  up  a  little?  You'd 
be  so  much  more  comfortable." 

"Land  sakes,  child,  'taint  fer  you  to  be  sweepin* 


THE  DUNNS  155 

our  house!  Ella  here,  she  can  sweep;  and  Hoopsy 
Topsy's  a  good  fist  at  it." 

"I  shall  tidy  up  the  room  to-morrow,"  said  Ella, 
with  an  air  of  haughty  apology,  "but  to-day  I 
have  a  hat  to  trim  and  I  can't  be  bothered  with 
household  matters." 

"Ella's  just  great  on  trimmin'  hats,"  observed 
her  mother,  "and  Mis'  Green,  she  giv'  her  her  last 
year's  straw;  and  Ella,  she'll  trim  it  up  so  Mis' 
Green  herself  couldn't  recognize  it!" 

Marjorie  didn't  doubt  this  in  the  least,  and  as 
Molly's  suggestion  had  put  an  idea  into  her  own 
head,  she  began  to  look  upon  an  acquaintance  with 
the  Dunns  as  a  new  sort  of  entertainment. 


CHAPTER  XII 

THE    BAZAAK. 

"Mas.  DUNN,"  Marjorie  said,  "please  let  Molly 
and  me  fix  up  this  room  a  little  bit.  Now,  I'll  tell 
you  what :  you  and  the  children  take  these  baskets 
of  things  out  into  the  kitchen  and  put  them  away, 
or  eat  them,  or  do  what  you  please.  And  then  you 
all  stay  out  there  until  we  tell  you  you  may  come 
back.  Ella  can  trim  her  hat  if  she  chooses,  and 
Hoopsy  Topsy  can  take  care  of  the  children,  and 
you  can  go  on  with  your  reading  which  we  inter- 
rupted." 

"Now,  ain't  you  kind,"  said  Mrs.  Dunn;  "I  do 
declare  that  would  be  jest  lovely!  I  ain't  had  a 
good  rest  like  that  in  I  don't  know  when !  Hoopsy 
Topsy,  you  and  Ella'll  have  to  shove  me  out  in  this 
here  chair.  I  can  hobble  some,  but  I  can't  walk." 

With  the  children's  assistance,  Mrs.  Dunn  was 
156 


THE  BAZAAR  157 

transferred  to  the  other  room,  her  children  fol- 
lowed, and  Midge  and  Molly  were  left  to  their  own 
devices. 

"It's  hopeless,"  said  Marjorie,  as  she  looked 
around  at  the  untidy  room. 

"Not  a  bit  of  it !"  declared  Molly ;  "if  I  only  had 
a  decent  broom  instead  of  this  old  stub!  Now, 
I'll  sweep,  Mopsy,  and  you  find  something  that'll 
do  for  a  duster,  and  we'll  straighten  up  the  place 
in  less  than  no  time." 

Molly  was  a  brave  little  housekeeper,  and  though 
Marjorie  knew  less  about  it,  she  was  an  apt  pupil, 
and  the  whole  performance  seemed  great  fun.  In 
less  than  an  hour  the  two  girls  had  quite  trans- 
formed the  room.  Everything  was  clean  and  tidy, 
and  Marjorie  had  scampered  out  and  picked  a 
bunch  of  daisies  and  clover  to  decorate  the 
mantel. 

"They  haven't  any  pretty  things,"  she  said,  as 
she  scowled  at  the  effect  of  her  bouquet  in  an  old 
cracked  jar.  "I'll  tell  you  what,  Molly,  let's  come 
back  to-morrow  and  bring  some  little  traps  to 
decorate  with.  I  can  spare  a  number  of  things  out 


158  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

of  my  own  room ;  and  Grandma  will  give  me  some, 
I  know ;  and  Uncle  Steve  will  give  me  some,  too." 

"Yes,  I  can  bring  a  lot,"  said  Molly,  with  en- 
thusiasm; "let's  make  this  family  all  over.  Let's 
make  them  be  neat  and  tidy  and  thrifty." 

"Do  you  suppose  we  can?"  said  Marjorie,  doubt- 
fully. 

"Well,  we  can  try,"  said  Molly.  "Now  let's  call 
them  in,  and  then  let's  go  home.  It  must  be  dinner- 
time, and  I'm  nearly  starved." 

They  opened  the  door  and  found  the  Dunn  fam- 
ily apparently  happy  and  contented;  and  in  no 
wise  disturbed  by  the  unusual  occupation  of  their 
visitors. 

"Come  in,"  cried  Marjorie,  "come  in  all  of  you, 
and  see  how  nice  your  room  looks !" 

"I  can't  come  just  now,"  said  Elegant  Ella, 
whose  speech  was  rather  indistinct  by  reason  of 
several  pins  held  in  her  mouth.  "I'm  trimming 
my  hat,  and  if  I  leave  it  now  I'll  forget  how  I  was 
going  to  arrange  the  feather." 

"I  think  I  won't  move  just  at  present,"  said 
Mrs.  Dunn.  "The  gettin'  out  here  hurt  me  more'n 


THE  BAZAAR  159 

I  thought  it  was  goin'  to,  and  now  I'm  landed,  I 
guess  I'll  set  a  spell.  I'm  ever  so  much  obliged  to 
you  fer  all  your  kindness,  and  now  you'd  better 
run  along  home  or  your  grandma'll  be  worried. 
You're  mighty  good  children,  and  I'm  glad  to  have 
that  room  swep'  up;  it  must  be  a  weight  off  en 
Ella's  mind." 

It  did  not  seem  probable  that  Ella  ever  had  a 
weight  on  her  mind  in  the  way  of  housekeeping 
cares,  but  at  the  moment  she  was  so  absorbed  in 
her  hat-trimming  that  she  paid  no  attention  to  her 
mother's  remark. 

It  seemed  hard  that  Molly  and  Midge  had  no  one 
to  appreciate  the  results  of  their  labors,  but 
Hoopsy  Topsy  was  washing  the  dishes  after  the 
family  meal,  Plumpy  was  asleep  on  the  floor,  and 
Dibbs  was  playing  out  in  the  door-yard,  with  some 
battered  old  toys. 

So,  taking  their  baskets,  Molly  and  Midge 
started  homeward. 

"I  thought  it  would  be  fun  to  take  things  to 
poor  people,"  said  Marjorie,  with  an  air  of  dis- 
appointment ;  "but  those  people  are  too  aggravat- 


160  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

ing  for  anything.  They  just  accept  what  you 
bring  and  hardly  thank  you  for  it,  and  then  they 
seem  to  want  you  to  go  home  as  fast  as  you 
can." 

"That's  so,"  agreed  Molly;  "but  I  don't  care 
whether  they  like  it  or  not.  I  think  we  ought 
to  try  to  do  them  good.  I  don't  mean  only  to  take 
them  things  to  eat,  but  try  to  make  them  more — 
more " 

"Respectable,"  suggested  Marjorie.  "But  I 
suppose  that  Ella  thinks  she's  more  respectable 
than  we  are  this  minute." 

"I  s'pose  she  does;  but  we  oughtn't  to  be  dis- 
couraged by  such  things.  I  think  mother'll  give 
me  some  of  my  last  year's  dresses  to  give  her, 
and  then  she  won't  have  to  wear  that  funny-look- 
ing rig  she  had  on." 

"She  likes  that,"  said  Marjorie.  "I  don't  be- 
lieve she'd  wear  your  dresses  if  you  took  them  to 
her." 

By  this  time  the  girls  had  reached  the  Sherwood 
house,  and  Grandma  invited  Molly  to  stay  to  din- 
ner, which  invitation  the  little  girl  gladly  accepted. 


THE  BAZAAR  161 

At  the  dinner-table  they  told  Grandma  the  whole 
story  of  the  morning. 

Mrs.  Sherwood  was  greatly  amused  at  their  de- 
scription of  the  Dunn  family,  and  greatly  sur- 
prised to  learn  of  their  efforts  in  the  house-clean- 
ing line. 

"I  want  you  to  be  charitable,"  she  said,  "and 
generously  inclined  toward  the  poor  and  needy. 
But  I  don't  want  you  to  adopt  such  unusual  meth- 
ods of  dispensing  your  charity.  After  this,  when 
you  feel  inclined  to  such  energetic  measures,  come 
home  first  and  ask  permission.  Then,  if  the  plan 
seems  to  me  feasible,  you  can  carry  it  out." 

"But,  Grandma,"  said  Marjorie,  "the  Dunns 
really  need  help.  They  can't  seem  to  do  any- 
thing and  they  haven't  anything  to  do 
with." 

"But  you're  too  young,  my  child,  to  know  what 
they  do  need.  You  must  be  content  to  help  them 
under  the  direction  of  some  one  older  than  your- 
self. Mrs.  Dunn,  I  fear,  is  not  a  thrifty  or  hard- 
working woman.  She  has  not  been  here  long,  and 
I  know  little  about  her ;  but  I've  been  told  that  she 


162  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

quite  spoils  that  oldest  child  and  makes  the  second 
one  do  all  the  work." 

"The  second  one  is  named  Hoopsy  Topsy,"  said 
Marjorie,  laughing;  "and  she's  like  her  name. 
She's  always  tumbling  down  and  racing  about, 
with  her  dress  torn  and  her  hair  in  her  eyes,  like  a 
perfect  witch.  The  Elegant  Ella  is  quite  different. 
Truly,  Grandma,  they're  a  funny  lot,  and  if  you 
go  there  this  afternoon,  mayn't  we  go  with  you  ?" 

"No,"  said  Mrs.  Sherwood,  "I  shall  go  by  my- 
self, to-day,  and  investigate  the  case.  Perhaps 
some  other  time  I  may  take  you  children." 

The  girls  were  disappointed,  but  when  they 
found  they  couldn't  go,  they  went  out  to  Mar- 
jorie's  porch  to  talk  it  all  over. 

"I  think,"  said  Marjorie,  "it's  our  duty  to  do 
something  for  those  children.  Just  think,  Molly, 
we  have  everything  we  want,  and  they  have  noth- 
ing." 

"I'll  tell  you  what,  Mopsy:  let's  sew  and  make 
things  for  them;  dresses,  you  know,  and  aprons." 

"I  can't  sew  fit  to  be  seen,  Molly;  and  'twould 
take  me  all  summer  to  get  one  apron  made.  I'd 


THE  BAZAAR  1G3 

rather  give  them  things  that  we  have.  Why,  I'd 
rather  give  Ella  my  best  parasol  than  to  try  to  sew 
anything  for  her !" 

"Oh,  don't  give  her  that  lovely  parasol!  We'll 
think  of  something  else.  Suppose  we  invite  them 
all  to  dinner ;  you  one  day,  and  I  another." 

"I  don't  believe  Grandma  would  like  that.  And, 
anyway,  that  would  only  give  them  dinner  for  two 
days;  we  couldn't  keep  it  up,  you  know.  But, 
Molly,  I'll  tell  you  what !  Let's  have  a  fair,  or  a 
bazaar  or  something, — and  make  some  money  for 
them  that  way." 

"Just  the  thing !  That  would  be  lovely.  Where 
shall  we  have  it  ?" 

"Right  here  in  this  porch.  Uncle  Steve'll  help, 
I  know.  And  I'm  sure  Grandma  won't  mind  our 
doing  that." 

When  Marjorie  laid  the  plan  before  Mrs.  Sher- 
wood that  lady  quite  approved  of  it. 

"Now,  that's  something  sensible,"  she  said;  "it 
will  be  very  nice  for  you  girls  to  make  things,  and 
have  a  pretty  little  fair,  but  don't  go  down  there 
again  and  sweep  rooms  for  those  people.  I'm  very 


164  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

sorry  for  poor  Mrs.  Dunn,  but  in  this  neighbor- 
hood there  are  not  many  poor  people,  and  as  the 
farmers  are  all  kind-hearted  I  do  not  think  she 
will  suffer  for  lack  of  food  while  her  injuries  keep 
her  from  her  work." 

"Isn't  there  any  Mr.  Dunn?"  asked  Marjorie. 

"No;  he  died  a  few  months  ago.  That  is  why 
she  had  to  come  here  and  live  in  that  forlorn 
little  cottage.  She  hopes  to  support  herself  and 
her  children  by  going  out  to  work  each  day,  but 
until  her  burns  get  well  of  course  she  can't  do 
that." 

"I'm  sorry  for  her,"  said  Marjorie,  decidedly, 
"and  I  hope  we'll  make  a  lot  at  our  fair  to  help  her 
along." 

When  they  told  Stella  about  the  plan  for  the 
fair,  she  thought  it  all  great  fun.  She  did  not 
seem  to  care  much  about  the  Dunns  or  their  needs, 
and  positively  refused  to  visit  the  little  old  cottage, 
but  she  was  ready  to  work  for  the  fair  with  all  her 
might. 

There  seemed  to  be  no  end  to  the  pretty  things 
Stella  knew  how  to  make.  She  was  a  clever  little 


THE  BAZAAR  165 

artist,  and  she  painted  cards,  pictures,  and  trin- 
kets of  all  sorts,  which  Molly  and  Midge  helped  to 
make  up  into  various  salable  fancy  articles. 

Midge  was  ingenious,  too,  and  every  after- 
noon the  three  worked  busily,  making  all  sorts  of 
things. 

Dolls  were  a  specialty;  and  they  made  funny 
Chinese-looking  affairs  by  stringing  peanuts  to- 
gether, and  making  queer  little  costumes  out  of 
Japanese  paper-napkins.  They  made  paper  dolls, 
too,  which  Stella  painted  prettily,  and  they  dressed 
some  little  china  dolls  and  wooden  Dutch  dolls. 

Uncle  Steve  brought  them  materials  to  make  up ; 
and  a  letter  which  Marjorie  wrote  to  her  mother 
resulted  in  the  arrival  of  a  big  box  filled  with  all 
sorts  of  pretty  and  curious  things,  which  would 
doubtless  find  a  ready  sale. 

Marjorie  crocheted  mats  and  strung  bead 
chains,  while  Molly,  whose  tastes  were  practical, 
made  sweeping-caps  and  ironing-holders  by  the 
dozen. 

So  enthusiastic  did  the  girls  grow  over  their 
plan  that  their  elders  became  interested,  and  soon 


166  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

donations  for  the  fair  began  to  arrive  from  many 
of  the  neighbors. 

As  the  day  drew  near,  preparations  went  on 
more  rapidly,  and  the  affair  took  on  larger  pro- 
portions. 

It  was  arranged  that  all  the  toys,  dolls,  and 
fancy  things  for  sale  should  be  displayed  in  Mar- 
jorie's  porch.  Carter  had  put  up  some  long 
tables,  which  Grandma  Sherwood  had  draped  pret- 
tily with  white  and  light  green  cheese-cloth. 

The  other  parts  of  the  big  veranda  were  ar- 
ranged with  tables,  where  ices  and  cakes  were  to 
be  served;  and  a  pretty  booth  was  devoted  to  the 
sale  of  home-made  candies. 

The  verandas  and  grounds  were  made  gay  with 
flags  and  Chinese  lanterns.  Uncle  Steve  super- 
intended these  decorations,  which  insured  their 
being  beautiful  and  appropriate.  A  tent  on  the 
lawn  sheltered  some  musicians;  and  in  an  arbor, 
lemonade  was  dispensed. 

The  day  of  the  bazaar  was  clear  and  pleasant, 
and  not  too  warm.  Early  in  the  afternoon,  Stella 
and  Molly  arrived,  and  the  two,  with  Midge,  all 


THE  BAZAAR  167 

in  their  fresh  white  dresses,  flitted  about  from  one 
booth  to  another,  to  make  sure  that  everything 
was  in  readiness. 

Several  other  girls  and  boys,  and  some  ladies 
and  gentlemen  too,  had  been  invited  to  assist  in 
selling  the  things  and  to  wait  01?  the  guests,  so 
that  when  the  bazaar  opened  at  four  o'clock  in 
the  afternoon  a  merry  lot  of  young  people  were 
scattered  about  the  grounds. 

Marjorie  was  in  her  element.  "Oh,  Uncle 
Steve,"  she  cried;  "isn't  it  all  perfectly  lovely! 
And  I  think  we'll  make  quite  a  lot  of  money,  don't 
you?" 

"I  do,  indeed,  Mopsy.  I'm  only  afraid,  by  the 
way  the  customers  are  flocking  in,  that  we  haven't 
provided  enough  refreshment  for  them." 

And  sure  enough,  though  the  hour  was  yet  early, 
crowds  of  people  were  coming  in  at  the  gate. 

The  fame  of  the  little  fair  had  spread  among 
the  country  people,  and  they  all  seemed  determined 
to  help  along  the  good  cause.  Molly  and  Mar- 
jorie found  their  stock  of  wares  rapidly  fading 
away,  while  Stella,  who  was  selling  lemonade,  could 


168  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

scarcely  keep  enough  on  hand  to  supply  her  cus- 
tomers. 

"You  must  put  up  your  prices,  Mopsy,"  said  her 
uncle;  "that's  the  way  to  do  when  your  stock  is 
getting  low." 

So  Marjorie  doubled  the  price  of  everything  she 
had  left  for  sale,  but  even  then  the  dolls  and 
trinkets  were  willingly  bought. 

"What  shall  we  do?"  said  Grandma,  in  despair. 
"It  isn't  seven  o'clock,  we  haven't  lighted  the  lan- 
terns yet  for  the  evening,  and  the  ice  cream 
is  all  gone!  I  never  dreamed  we'd  have  such  a 
crowd." 

"We'll  light  the  lanterns,  anyway,"  declared 
Uncle  Steve,  "for  if  the  ice  cream  is  gone  they'll 
want  to  buy  the  lanterns  next !" 

And  sure  enough  they  did.  When  the  people 
came  in  the  evening  and  learned  that  everything 
was  sold  out  but  the  lanterns,  they  declared  they 
would  buy  them  for  souvenirs.  So  the  merry  guests 
walked  about  the  grounds,  carrying  the  lighted 
lanterns  they  had  bought  (at  astonishing  prices), 
and  it  lent  a  fantastic  effect  to  the  scene  to  see 


THE  BAZAAR  169 

the  lanterns  bobbing  about  among  the  trees  and 
shrubs  on  the  lawn. 

Marjorie  was  so  sorry  not  to  have  wares  to 
offer  her  would-be  customers  that  she  ran  up  to 
her  room  several  times,  gathering  up  books,  pic- 
tures, or  toys  that  she  thought  she  could  by  any 
possibility  spare.  She  would  fly  with  them  down 
to  the  porch,  mark  them  at  exorbitant  prices,  and 
in  a  few  moments  they  would  be  sold  to  the  amiable 
and  generous  buyers. 

It  was  an  unusual  experience  for  a  fancy  fair, 
as  often  there  are  many  unsold  wares  left  to  be 
auctioned  off  or  sold  at  reduced  rates. 

When  it  was  all  over  and  the  last  guests  had 
departed,  swinging  their  lanterns,  Marjorie,  very 
tired  but  very  happy,  displayed  a  well-filled  cash- 
box. 

"How  much  do  you  suppose?"  she  cried  gayly 
to  Uncle  Steve. 

"Fifty  dollars,"  guessed  that  jovial  gentle- 
man. 

"Nonsense,"  cried  Marjorie,  "you  know  there's 
more  than  that !  But  I  rather  think  you'll  be  sur- 


170  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

prised  when  I  tell  you  that  there's  a  little  over  two 
hundred  dollars !" 

"Fine !"  exclaimed  Uncle  Steve.  "That  will  keep 
the  Elegant  Ella  in  fans  and  sashes  for  some 
time !" 

"Indeed,  it  won't  be  used  for  that,"  declared 
Marjorie.  "We're  going  to  give  it  to  Grandma 
and  let  her  use  it  for  the  Dunns  just  as  she  thinks 
best.  Little  girls  can  have  a  fair  and  earn  the 
money,  but  it  takes  older  people  to  manage  the  rest 
of  it." 

"That's  true  enough,  Midge,"  said  Grandma, 
"but  you  certainly  shall  have  a  share  in  the  pleas- 
ure of  bestowing  it  upon  our  poor  neighbors.'* 


CHAPTER  XIII 

A    BIRTHDAY 

SffMopSY,"  said  Uncle  Steve  one  morning,  "I  under- 
stand that  next  week  Thursday  has  the  honor  of 
being  your  birthday." 

"Yes,  Uncle  Steve,  and  I'll  be  twelve  years  old." 

"My  gracious  goodness !  What  an  old  lady  you 
are  getting  to  be !  Well,  now  for  such  an  occasion 
as  that  we  must  celebrate  in  some  way.  So  I'm 
going  to  give  you  a  choice  of  pleasures.  Would 
you  rather  have  a  party,  a  picnic,  or  a  present?" 

Marjorie  considered.  She  well  knew  that  a  pres- 
ent which  would  balance  against  a  party  or  a 
picnic  would  be  a  fine  present,  indeed.  And  so, 
after  a  moment's  thought,  she  replied: 

"I'll  take  the  present,  thank  you,  Uncle  Steve; 
for  somehow  I  feel  sure  we'll  have  picnics  this  sum- 
mer, as  we  always  do ;  and  I  don't  care  much  about 
171 


172  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

a  party,  because  I  know  so  few  children  around 
here." 

"All  right,  then,  Midget ;  a  present  it  shall  be, 
but  with  this  stipulation:  you  must  promise  not 
to  go  down  into  the  south  orchard  from  now  until 
next  Thursday." 

"Why  not?"  asked  Mopsy,  her  eyes  wide  open 
with  astonishment. 

"Principally,  because  I  tell  you  not  to,  and  I 
want  you  to  obey  me ;  but  I  don't  mind  explaining 
that  it  is  because  I  shall  be  there,  at  least  part  of 
the  time,  making  your  present ;  and  as  I  want  it  to 
be  a  surprise,  you  mustn't  come  peeping  around." 

"All  right,  Uncle  Steve,  I  won't ;  but  why  do  you 
make  it  down  there?  Why  not  make  it  up  here  at 
the  house?" 

"Midget,  your  curiosity  will  some  day  get  you  in- 
to trouble.  I  prefer  to  do  the  work  in  the  meadow. 
Perhaps  it  is  sewing,  and  I  shall  take  my  work- 
basket  and  sit  under  the  big  maple-trees  to  sew." 

Marjorie  laughed  to  think  of  Uncle  Steve  sew- 
ing, but  was  really  burning  with  curiosity  to  know 
what  he  was  going  to  do. 


A  BIRTHDAY  173 

However,  she  had  given  her  word,  and  she  con- 
scientiously kept  it.  Not  once  during  those  inter- 
vening days  did  she  so  much  as  look  toward  the 
south  meadow,  though  if  she  had  done  so  she  would 
not  have  been  able  to  discover  what  her  birthday 
surprise  was  to  be. 

Every  day  she  discussed  the  subject  with  Molly 
and  Stella,  and  each  formed  an  opinion.  Stella 
thought  it  was  a  new  flower  garden  that  Uncle 
Steve  was  making  for  Midge;  Molly  thought  he 
was  having  a  swing  put  up,  because  she  had  seen 
Carter  carrying  some  long  timbers  over  that  way. 
But  the  girls  considered  themselves  bound  by 
Mopsy's  promise  to  her  uncle,  and  conscientiously 
refrained  from  going  down  to  the  meadow  to  in- 
vestigate. 

Grandma,  of  course,  was  in  the  secret,  and  as  a 
result  she  often  shut  herself  into  her  own  room, 
telling  Marjorie  she  must  not  come  in.  She  would 
stay  there  for  hours  at  a  time,  and  Mopsy  felt  sure 
she  was  sewing  on  something  connected  with  the 
birthday  surprise,  as  indeed  she  was. 

As  the  day  came  nearer,  all  the  members  of  the 


174  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

household  seemed  to  be  in  a  state  of  great  excite- 
ment. Carter  was  running  about,  bringing 
mysterious-looking  parcels  from  the  express 
office,  and  taking  them  to  the  barn  to  unpack 
them. 

Eliza  was  concocting  delicious-looking  creams 
and  jellies,  but  they,  Marjorie  knew,  were  for  the 
birthday  feast,  which  would,  of  course,  be  a  hilari- 
ous festival,  although  not  a  party. 

At  last  Thursday  morning  came,  and  Marjorie 
awoke  bright  and  early;  and  very  soon,  arrayed 
in  a  fresh,  pink  gingham  frock,  went  dancing 
downstairs. 

So  early  was  she  that  the  others  had  not  yet 
come  down,  and  she  went  out  into  the  kitchen  to 
talk  to  Eliza. 

"Oh,  me!"  she  sighed.  "I  wish  Uncle  Steve 
would  hurry.  It  just  seems  as  if  I  couldn't  wait 
any  longer  to  know  what  my  birthday  surprise  is 
going  to  be.  Do  you  know,  Eliza  ?" 

"Faix,  an'  I  do,  Miss  Midge,  an'  it's  a  foine  gift 
yer  uncle  has  for  ye !" 

"Don't  tell  me,  Eliza,  because  Uncle  Steve  said 


A  BIRTHDAY  175 

I  mustn't  ask  questions  about  it ;  but  do  you  think 
I'll  like  it?" 

"  'Like  it,'  is  it?  'Deed  an'  you  will  thin !  Ye'll 
go  crazy  as  a  loony  tic  wid  joy  and  delight!  An' 
I'm  thinkin'  you  and  Miss  Molly  will  be  after 
breaking  your  necks  in  it,  but  the  little  lady  Stella, 
— I'm  feared  she  won't  get  in  it  at  all,  at  all ;  she'll 
be  too  sheared." 

"Then  it  is  a  swing,"  exclaimed  Midget,  and 
she  felt  a  little  disappointment,  for  though  a 
swing  was  lovely  to  have,  yet  she  had  one  at  home, 
so  it  was  no  especial  novelty ;  and,  too,  she  hadn't 
thought  Uncle  Steve  would  make  such  a  fuss  about 
having  a  swing  built. 

"I'm  not  sayhi'  it  isn't  a  swing,"  said  Eliza, 
"and  I'm  not  sayin'  it  is.  And  I'm  not  sayin'  it 
isn't  a  merry-go-around-about,  or  whativer  ye  call 
thim  noisy  things  that  they  do  be  havin'  down  by 
the  circus  tent,  and  I'm  not  sayin'  it  is." 

"Don't  say  any  more  about  what  it  is  or  isn't, 
or  I'll  guess." 

"Indeed  you  wouldn't,  Miss  Mopsy,  if  ye  guessed 
from  now  until  ye're  gray-headed." 


176  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

This  made  Midget  think  that  the  gift  was  not 
a  swing,  as  she  had  already  guessed  that, — and 
then  she  heard  Uncle  Steve's  voice  calling  her, 
and  she  ran  gayly  back  to  the  dining-room. 

The  birthday  breakfast  was  a  festival  indeed. 
Marjorie's  place  was  decorated  with  flowers,  and 
even  the  back  of  her  chair  was  garlanded  with 
wreaths. 

At  her  plate  lay  such  a  huge  pile  of  parcels,  tied 
up  in  bewitching  white  papers  and  gay  ribbons, 
that  it  seemed  as  if  it  would  take  all  day  to  ex- 
amine them. 

"Goodness  me!"  exclaimed  Midget.  "Did  any- 
body ever  have  so  many  birthday  gifts  ?  Are  they 
all  for  me?" 

"Any  that  you  don't  want,"  said  Uncle  Steve, 
"you  may  hand  over  to  me.  I  haven't  had  a  birth- 
day for  several  years  now,  and  I'd  be  thankful  for 
one  small  gift." 

"You  shall  have  the  nicest  one  here,"  declared 
Marjorie,  "and  I  don't  care  what  it  is,  or  who 
sent  it." 

"The  nicest  one  isn't  here,"  observed  Grandma, 


A  BIRTHDAY  177 

with  a  merry  twinkle  in  her  eye,  and  Marjorie 
knew  that  she  was  thinking  of  the  surprise  in  the 

orchard. 

"Of  course,  I  mean  except  the  swing,"  said  Mar- 
jorie, looking  roguishly  at  Uncle  Steve  to  see  if 
she  had  guessed  right. 

"You've  been  peeping!"  he  exclaimed,  in  mock 
reproach,  and  then  Marjorie  knew  that  whatever 
it  was,  it  wasn't  a  swing. 

"You  know  I  haven't — you  know  I  wouldn't," 
she  declared,  and  then  she  began  to  open  the  lovely- 
looking  bundles. 

It  did  seem  as  if  everybody  that  Marjorie  knew 
had  remembered  her  birthday.  There  were  gifts 
from  everybody  at  home,  to  begin  with.  Mrs. 
Maynard  had  sent  the  sweetest  blue-silk  sash,  and 
Mr.  Maynard  a  beautiful  book.  The  children  all 
sent  toys  or  games  or  trinkets,  and  every  one 
seemed  to  Marjorie  to  be  just  what  she  had  wanted. 

There  was  a  cup  and  saucer  from  Eliza,  and 
small  tokens  from  Carter  and  Jane.  For  Marjorie 
was  a  great  pet  with  the'  servants,  and  they  all 
adored  her. 


178  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

But  among  all  the  bundles  there  was  no  gift 
from  Grandma  or  Uncle  Steve,  and  Marjorie  won- 
dered what  had  become  of  the  mysterious  work 
which  Grandma  had  been  doing  all  shut  up  in  her 
own  room. 

But  even  as  she  was  thinking  about  it,  Grandma 
explained : 

"Our  gifts  will  come  later,"  she  said.  "When 
Uncle  Steve  gives  you  his  birthday  surprise,  I 
will  add  my  contribution." 

Just  after  the  last  parcel  had  been  untied,  Molly 
and  Stella  came  flying  in.  That  is,  Molly  came 
flying,  while  serious  little  Stella  walked  at  her 
usual  sedate  pace. 

"Many  happy  returns  of  the  day !"  cried  Molly, 
"and  here's  my  gift."  She  had  in  her  arms  a  large 
and  rather  ungainly  bundle,  loosely  wrapped  in 
white  tissue  paper. 

Together  she  and  Marjorie  hastily  pulled  off 
the  papers,  and  there  was  a  beautiful  cat-basket 
trimmed  with  blue  ribbons  and  lined  with  soft 
cushions  for  Puff  to  sleep  in. 

"Oh!"  cried  Marjorie,  flinging  her  arms  around 


A  BIRTHDAY  179 

Molly's  neck,  "that's  just  what  I've  been  want- 
ing ever  since  I've  had  that  kitten."  And  grab- 
bing up  Puff,  who  was  never  very  far  away,  she 
laid  her  in  the  basket. 

Puff  seemed  delighted  with  her  new  bed,  and, 
after  curiously  sniffing  and  poking  into  all  the 
nooks  and  corners  of  it,  she  curled  up  and  began 
to  purr  herself  to  sleep. 

Stella's  gift  was  a  dainty,  little  white-silk  para- 
sol, with  a  frill  around  it,  which  seemed  to  Mar- 
jorie  the  loveliest  thing  she  had  ever  seen. 

"It's  beautiful,  Stella !"  she  exclaimed.  "And  I 
shall  always  carry  it  whenever  I'm  dressed  up 
enough.  I  hope  you  girls  will  have  your  birth- 
days soon,  so  I  can  give  you  some  lovely  things, 

too." 

"Have  you  had  your  surprise  yet?"  asked  im- 
patient Molly,  who,  according  to  her  usual  fashion, 
was  prancing  about  the  room  on  one  foot;  while 
Stella  sat  demurely  in  a  chair,  her  hands  quietly 
folded  in  her  lap,  though  her  eyes  seemed  to  make 
the  same  inquiry. 

"No,  not  yet,"  answered  Uncle  Steve  for  his 


180  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

niece,  "but  I  think  it's  about  time  for  us  to  see 
if  we  can  find  it." 

"All  right,"  cried  Marjorie,  "let's  all  go  to  the 
orchard !" 

"I  don't  see,  Midget,"  said  her  uncle,  "why 
you  think  the  surprise  is  down  at  the  orchard,  just 
because  I  told  you  I  was  making  it  down  there. 
In  fact  I  have  my  birthday  gift  for  you  right  here 
in  my  pocket." 

Marjorie  looked  rather  blank.  She  knew  Uncle 
Steve  loved  to  tease  her,  but  she  had  certainly  ex- 
pected some  out-of-door  gift,  and  to  receive  a 
little  trinket  that  could  be  carried  in  a  pocket 
was  a  surprise  indeed. 

In  proof  of  his  words  Uncle  Steve  drew  a  neatly- 
tied  parcel  from  a  pocket  of  his  morning  coat  and 
handed  it  to  Marjorie.  It  was  about  the  size  of  a 
one-pound  box  of  candy,  and  sure  enough,  when 
Marjorie  eagerly  pulled  off  the  paper,  the  gilt 
letters  on  the  cover  proclaimed  it  a  candy-box. 
Marjorie  felt  positive  that  her  uncle  would  not 
offer  her  candy  as  a  birthday  gift,  for  he  often 
brought  her  that  on  any  ordinary  day  of  the 


A  BIRTHDAY  181 

year.  But  she  was  mystified,  and  she  took  off  the 
cover,  not  knowing  herself  what  she  expected  to 
see.  To  her  surprise,  inside  the  box  was  another 
parcel,  a  trifle  smaller,  and  on  the  paper  which 
wrapped  it  was  written: 

"I  am  not  candy  as  you  thought, 
I  bring  you  joys  that  can't  be  bought." 

Marjorie  began  to  understand  that  it  was  one 
of  Uncle  Steve's  elaborate  jokes,  and  she  didn't 
know  whether  further  search  would  reveal  a  val- 
uable, though  tiny  gift,  or  some  absurd  hoax. 

She  took  out  the  second  box  and  tore  off  the 
wrappings.  Molly  eagerly  helped  her  pull  off  the 
ribbon  and  paper,  and  though  Stella  sat  quietly 
by,  she,  too,  almost  held  her  breath  to  see  what 
would  happen  next. 

Marjorie  opened  the  second  box,  and  this  time 
was  not  so  much  surprised  to  see  that  it  contained 
another  wrapped  and  tied  box.  On  this  one  was 
written : 

"Oho,  Miss  Mopsy,   fooled  again! 
Suppose  you  keep  on  trying,  then." 


182  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

"Indeed,  I  will,"  cried  Mopsy;  "I  expect  there 
are  a  thousand  boxes,  each  smaller  than  the  other, 
and  when  I  get  to  the  end  I'll  find  a  bright  penny, 
or  something  like  that !" 

"If  you  think  that,"  said  Uncle  Steve,  "I'll 
offer  you  two  cents  for  the  bundle  as  it  is  now ; 
and  then,  you  see,  you'll  double  your  money !" 

"No  siree!"  cried  Mar jorie,  "for,  you  see,  I 
don't  know.  It  may  be  a  diamond  ring,  but  that 
wouldn't  do  me  much  good,  as  I  couldn't  wear  it 
until  I'm  grown  up." 

"Hurry  up,"  cried  Molly,  who  was  dancing 
about,  both  helping  and  hindering  Mar  jorie,  "let's 
see  what  the  next  box  says." 

On  the  next  box  was  written: 

"Just  a  hint  I'll  give  to  you; 
I'm  of  metal,  tied  with  blue." 

"Metal,  tied  with  blue!"  screamed  Molly. 
"What  can  that  be?  A  hoe,  perhaps,  tied  up  with 
a  blue  ribbon." 

"What  kind  of  a  hoe  could  you  get  in  such  a 
little  box?"  said  Stella. 


A  BIRTHDAY  183 

«7  think  it's  a  locket,"  said  Marjorie,  "on  a 
blue  ribbon  to  hang  round  your  neck." 
The  next  box  said : 

"Very  seldom  you  will  use  me, 
But  you'd  cry  if  you  should  lose  me." 

"Ho!"  said  Marjorie,  "if  I'm  going  to  use  this 
thing  so  seldom  I  don't  think  I'd  cry  if  I  should 
lose  it." 

"Perhaps  it's  a  something  for  Sunday,"  sug- 
gested Molly,  "then  you'd  use  it  only  once  a  week, 
you  know." 

"Oh,  what  a  funny  verse  this  is,"  said  Marjorie, 

as  she  read : 

"I'm  nothing  to  eat,  I'm  nothing  to  wear; 
You  can  only  use  me  high  up  in  the  air." 

"I  know  what  it  is,"  said  Stella,  with  her  funny 
little  air  of  decision ;  "it's  a  kite !  You  could  only 
use  that  high  in  the  air,  you  know;  and  it's  that 
Japanese  sort  that  squeezes  all  up  to  nothing  and 
then  spreads  out  when  you  open  it." 

"I  believe  it  is,"  said  Midge,  "only  you  know  it 


184  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

said  it  was  made  of  metal.    But  just  listen  to  this 
next  verse ! 

"I  am  not  pretty,  I  am  not  gay, 
But  you'll  enjoy  me  every  day." 

The  boxes  were  getting  very  small  now,  and 
Marjorie  felt  sure  that  the  one  she  held  in  her  hand 
must  be  the  last  one,  unless,  indeed,  the  gift  was 
a  cherry  stone.  The  verse  read: 

"At  last,  Dear  Mopsy,  you've  come  to  me! 
Behold  your  birthday  gift!  only  a " 

As  Marjorie  read  the  last  words  she  opened  the 
box,  and  when  she  saw  the  contents  she  finished 
the  rhyme  herself  by  exclaiming,  "key!" 


CHAPTER  XIV 

"BREEZY  INN" 

SURE  enough,  the  tiny  box  contained  a  small  key 
tied  with  a  bit  of  blue  ribbon.  Marjorie  looked  at 
it  in  bewilderment. 

"It  must  unlock  something !"  cried  Molly. 

"Molly  Moss,"  exclaimed  Uncle  Steve,  "you 
have  a  wonderfully  clever  head  for  your  years! 
How  did  you  ever  guess  that  a  key  would  unlock 
something?  You  must  have  seen  keys  before!" 

"But  she  never  saw  this  one,"  cried  Midge. 
"Oh,  Uncle  Steve,  what  is  it  for?" 

"You've  been  in  suspense  quite  long  enough,  and 
now  we'll  try  to  find  a  lock  for  that  key  to  fit. 
Grandma  and  I  will  go  first,  and  if  you  three 
young  ladies  will  follow  us,  we  will  go  and  hunt 
for  a  keyhole." 

Full  of  delightful  anticipation,  the  three  girls 
185 


186  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

followed  their  older  leaders.  Marjorie  was  in  the 
middle,  her  arms  twined  about  Molly  and  Stella 
on  either  side,  and  their  arms  around  her.  Molly 
and  Midge  wanted  to  skip,  but  Stella  never 
skipped,  so  the  result  was  a  somewhat  joggly  gait 
as  they  went  down  the  path  to  the  orchard. 

The  south  meadow  was  a  wide  expanse  of  humpy 
grass-land,  with  only  a  few  trees  here  and  there. 

Especially  fine  trees  were  two  that  were  usually 
called  the  twin  maples.  These  two  very  old  trees 
grew  side  by  side,  their  great  trunks  not  more 
than  four  feet  apart  and  their  branches  so  inter- 
mingled that  they  were  practically  one  tree  in 
two  parts.  The  delightful  shade  of  this  double 
tree  afforded  a  favorite  playground  for  the  chil- 
dren, and  they  had  missed  it  during  the  past 
week  when  they  were  forbidden  to  go  into  the 
meadow. 

As  they  neared  the  meadow,  Marjorie  grew  more 
and  more  amazed.  There  was  nothing  unusual  in 
sight :  no  swing,  no  merry-go-round,  and  certainly 
nothing  that  a  key  could  unlock.  They  reached 
the  twin  maples,  and  then  Uncle  Steve  said:  "If 


"BREEZY  INN"  187 

you'll  all  step  around  to  the  other  side  of  this 
tree  I  think  we  may  discover  that  missing  key- 
hole." 

The  girls  scampered  around,  and,  looking  up 
into  the  tree,  they  saw  such  an  astonishing  sight 
that  the  three  simply  sat  down  on  the  ground  and 
stared  at  it.  It  was  nothing  more  nor  less  than 
a  house,  a  real  little  house  high  above  the  ground 
and  nestled  into  the  branches  of  the  trees,  just 
as  a  bird's  nest  might  be. 

The  house,  which  was  big  enough  for  the  girls 
to  have  gone  into  if  they  could  have  reached  it,, 
had  a  front  door  and  a  window  on  either  side. 
There  was  a  veranda  on  which  stood  three  small 
rustic  benches,  quite  strong  enough  to  have  held 
the  three  girls  had  they  had  wings  to  fly  up  there. 
The  veranda  had  a  railing  around  it,  above  which 
hung  two  hanging-baskets  filled  with  bright 
flowers. 

The  door  was  shut  and  a  keyhole  could  be  dis- 
tinctly seen. 

"There's  the  keyhole,  Mopsy,  which  I  have  rea- 
son to  think  will  fit  your  key,"  said  Uncle  Steve. 


188  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

"But  I  can't  reach  up  to  it,"  said  Marjorie, 
looking  very  puzzled.  "What's  the  house  for?  Is 
it  for  birds?" 

"Yes,  for  three  birds  that  I  know  of,  who  wear 
gingham  dresses  and  hair  ribbons." 

"But  we  don't  wear  wings,"  interrupted  Mar- 
jorie. "Oh,  Uncle  Steve,  do  tell  me  what  that  house 
is  for !" 

"It's  for  you,  chickabiddy,  and  if  you'd  like  to 
go  up  there  I'll  show  you  a  way." 

Uncle  Steve  stepped  over  to  the  double  trunk, 
ana  reaching  up  pulled  down  something,  which 
proved  to  be  a  weight  hung  on  the  end  of  a  long 
cord.  The  cord  reached  up  to  the  veranda  of 
the  little  house. 

"Here,"  said  Uncle  Steve,  as  he  put  the  weight 
into  Marjorie's  hand,  "this  is  perhaps  as  useful  a 
birthday  gift  as  the  key  I  gave  you.  Pull  hard, 
and  see  what  happens." 

Marjorie  pulled  hard,  and  as  she  pulled, 
a  rope  ladder  came  tumbling  down  from  the  edge 
of  the  little  porch.  It  was  a  queer-looking  ladder, 
the  sides  being  of  rope  and  the  rounds  of  wood, 


"BREEZY  INN"  189 

while  the  top  seemed  to  be  securely  fastened  to  the 
veranda  floor. 

"There  you  are,"  said  Uncle  Steve;  "there's 
your  birthday  gift,  and  all  you  have  to  do  is  to 
skip  up  there,  unlock  the  door,  and  take  pos- 
session." 

But  instead  of  doing  this,  Marjorie,  with  a 
squeal  of  delight,  threw  her  arms  around  Uncle 
Steve's  neck. 

"You  dear,  old,  blessed  uncle!"  she  cried.^  X'l 
understand  it  all  now;  but  truly  I  couldn't  think 
how  we  were  ever  going  to  get  up  there.  It's  a 
lovely  surprise,  the  best  I  ever  had!  You  are  so 
good  to  me,  and  Grandma,  too!" 

Having  nearly  squeezed  the  breath  out  of  Uncle 
Steve,  Marjorie  left  him,  and  flying  over  to 
Grandma,  treated  her  to  a  similar  demonstration. 
And  then,  with  her  precious  key  tightly  clasped  in 
her  hand,  she  started  to  climb  the  rather  wabbly 
ladder.  Impetuous  Molly  was  crazy  to  follow,  but 
Uncle  Steve  declared  that  it  was  the  law  of  the 
house  that  there  must  never  be  more  than  one  on 
the  ladder  at  a  time. 


190  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

Though  Marjorie  became  accustomed  to  it 
afterward,  it  was  not  an  easy  matter  to  climb  the 
rope  ladder  for  the  first  time;  but  under  Uncle 
Steve's  direction  she  began  to  learn  the  trick 
of  it,  and  safely  reached  the  top.  Agile  Molly 
scrambled  up  as  if  she  had  been  used  to  rope  ladders 
all  her  life ;  but  to  timid  Stella  the  climbing  seemed 
an  impossible  feat.  But  Uncle  Steve  held  the 
ladder  firmly  at  the  bottom,  and  Marjorie  en- 
couraged her  from  the  top,  while  Molly  threw 
herself  flat  on  the  porch  and  reached  down  a 
helping  hand. 

At  last  the  three  girls  were  safely  on  the  little 
veranda,  and  the  sensation  was  as  delightful  as  it 
was  strange.  To  sit  on  the  little  benches,  high 
above  the  ground,  and  look  out  straight  across 
the  meadow;  and  then,  turning  to  either  side, 
to  see  the  great  limbs  and  branches  of  the  old 
maple-trees,  was  indeed  a  fairy-tale  experience. 

Over  the  door  swung  a  quaint  little  old-fash- 
ioned signboard,  on  which  in  gilt  letters  were  the 
words  "Breezy  Inn." 

With  bewildering  anticipations  of  further  de- 


"BREEZY  INN"  191 

light,  Mar j  one  took  her  little  key  and  unlocked 
the  door. 

Grandma  and  Uncle  Steve,  watching  from  be- 
low, heard  shouts  of  joy  as  the  girls  disappeared 
through  the  doorway. 

But  in  a  moment  they  reappeared  at  the  win- 
dows, and  their  beaming  faces  told  the  tale  of  their 
happiness. 

"Good-by,"  called  Uncle  Steve,  "the  presenta- 
tion is  over  and  'Breezy  Inn'  is  yours.  I've  fast- 
ened the  ladder  firmly,  so  you  can  go  up  and  down 
as  you  choose.  The  furnishings  are  your  birthday 
present  from  Grandma,  but  we're  going  back  now 
to  a  house  that  we  can  get  into ;  and  you  children 
had  better  show  up  there  about  dinner-time. 
Meanwhile,  have  all  the  fun  you  can." 

Grandma  and  Uncle  Steve  went  away,  leaving 
the  children  to  explore  and  make  acquaintance  of 
"Breezy  Inn." 

It  was  a  fairy  house,  indeed;  and  yet,  though 
tiny,  everything  seemed  to  be  just  large  enough. 

The  interior  of  the  house  was  one  large  room ; 
and  a  smaller  room,  like  an  ell,  at  the  back.  The 


192  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

large  room  contained  the  front  door  and  two  front 
windows,  also  a  window  at  each  end.  The  smaller 
room  had  no  outer  exit,  but  three  windows  gave 
ample  light  and  air. 

The  front  room,  or  living-room,  as  Marjorie 
termed  it,  was  pleasantly  furnished.  On  the  floor 
was  a  rug  of  grass-matting  and  the  furniture 
was  of  light  wicker.  The  sofa,  chairs,  and  tables 
were  not  of  a  size  for  grown  people,  but  were  just 
right  for  twelve-year-old  little  girls.  At  one  end 
were  a  few  built-in  bookshelves;  at  the  other  a 
wardrobe  or  cupboard,  most  convenient  to  keep 
things  in. 

Grandma's  handiwork  was  shown  in  some  dear 
little  sofa-pillows  and  chair-cushions,  in  dainty, 
draped  curtains  and  table  covers. 

The  room  at  the  back,  Marjorie  declared  was  a 
workroom.  In  the  middle  was  a  large  table,  just 
splendid  to  work  at  when  making  paper-dolls' 
houses  or  anything  like  that;  and  round  the  room 
were  shelves  and  cupboards  to  hold  materials. 

"It  just  takes  my  breath  away!"  said  Marjorie, 
AS  she  sank  down  on  the  settee  in  the  living-room; 


"BREEZY  INN"  193 

"I  never  saw  anything  like  it!     Can't  we  have 
just  the  best  fun  here  all  summer!" 

"I  should  say  we  could!"  declared  Molly.  "It 
seems  almost  as  if  it  must  be  our  birthdays  too. 
We'll  have  just  as  much  fun  here  as  you  will, 
Midge." 

"Why,  I  couldn't  have  any  fun  at  all  without 
you  two;  at  least,  it  would  be  very  lonesome 
fun." 

"I  don't  see  how  they  ever  built  it,"  said  Molly, 
who,  by  way  of  finding  out,  was  hanging  out 
of  a  window  as  far  as  she  could  and  investigating 
the  building. 

"I  know,"  said  the  wise  Stella ;  "I  read  about  one 
once ;  they  nail  the  beams  and  things  to  the  trunks 
of  the  trees  and  then  they  nail  boards  across,  and 
then  they  build  the  house.  But  the  one  I  read 
about  wasn't  as  nice  as  this." 

"I  don't  think  there  could  be  one  as  nice  as  this," 
declared  Marjorie ;  "and  we  can  fix  it  up  a  lot  yet, 
you  know.  I  shall  bring  some  things  down  from 
my  room,  some  of  my  favorite  books  for  the  book- 
shelves, and  things  like  that." 


194  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

"Do  you  suppose  it  will  rain  in,  ever?"  asked 
the  practical  Stella. 

"No,  of  course  not,"  said  Molly,  who  was  still 
examining  the  carpenter  work.  "See,  these  win- 
dows slide  shut  sideways,  and  then  if  you  shut  the 
door  tight  the  rain  couldn't  get  in,  unless  the  roof 
leaks." 

"Of  course  it  doesn't !"  declared  Midget ;  "Uncle 
Steve  wouldn't  build  me  a  house  with  a  leaky 
roof.  Did  you  ever  see  such  cunning  window 
curtains!  Of  course  we  don't  need  blinds,  for 
the  tree  keeps  the  sun  out.  It  does  seem  so 
queer  to  look  out  of  the  window  and  see  only  a 
tree." 

"Look  out  of  the  front  door,"  said  Molly,  "and 
you  won't  see  a  tree  then.  You'll  just  see  grass 
and  sky  and  cows.  But  what's  this  thing  at  the 
back,  Mopsy?  It  looks  like  a  pair  of  well- 
buckets." 

"I  don't  know.  What  can  it  be?"  said  Mopsy, 
running  to  look. 

There  was  a  queer  contraption  that  seemed  to 
be  something  like  a  windlass  and  something  like  a 


"BREEZY  INN"  195 

dumbwaiter.      It    was    at    the    very    end    of   the 
veranda  around  the  corner  of  the  house. 

"I  know,"  said  F-tella  quietly ;  "it's  a  kind  of  an 
elevator  thing  to  pull  up  things  when  you  want 

to." 

"Why,  so  it  is!"  cried  Marjorie.  "This  is  the 
way  it  works."  And  releasing  a  big  wooden  but- 
ton, she  let  the  whole  affair  slide  to  the  ground, 
and,  then,  grasping  the  handle  of  a  crank,  she 
began  to  draw  it  up  again. 

"Well,  if  that  isn't  great!"  cried  Molly.  "We 
can  boost  up  all  sorts  of  things !" 

"Here's  something  to  boost  up  now,"  said  Mar- 
jorie, who  had  spied  Jane  coming  across  the  fields, 
with  what  was  undoubtedly  a  tray  of  refreshment. 
And  sure  enough,  Grandma  had  sent  some  gm- 
ger-snaps  and  lemonade  to  furnish  the  first  feast 
at  "Breezy  Inn." 

"Your  grandma  wouldn't  send  much,"  explained 
Jane,  "for  she  says  you  must  all  come  back  to  the 
house  at  one  o'clock  for  the  birthday  dinner,  and 
it's  well  after  eleven  now.  She  sent  your  clock, 
Miss  Midget,  so  you'll  know  when  to  come." 


196  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

Apparently  Jane  knew  more  about  the  ways  and 
means  of  "Breezy  Inn"  than  the  children  did ;  for 
she  directed  them  explicitly  how  to  let  down  the 
dumbwaiter,  and,  then,  after  having  carefully 
placed  on  it  the  tray  of  good  things  and  the  clock, 
she  advised  them  about  drawing  it  up.  It  worked 
almost  like  a  well-bucket  and  was  quite  easy  to 
manage.  The  tray  reached  the  top  in  safety,  and, 
in  great  glee,  the  girls  arranged  the  little  feast 
on  the  table  in  the  living-room,  and  sat  down  to 
play  tea-party. 

"Isn't  this  lovely !"  exclaimed  Molly,  as  she 
took  her  seventh  ginger-snap  from  the  plate.  "I 
don't  see  how  your  grandma  knew  that  we  were 
beginning  to  get  hungry." 

"Grandma  always  seems  to  know  everything 
that's  nice,"  said  Marjorie.  "Some  day,  girls, 
let's  come  out  here  and  spend  the  whole  day. 
We'll  bring  a  lot  of  lunch,  you  know,  and  it  will 
be  just  as  if  we  lived  here." 

"Goody !"  said  Molly.  "That  will  be  heaps  of 
fun.  We'll  all  bring  things ;  I  know  Mother  will 
give  me  a  pie." 


"BREEZY  INN"  197 

"I'll  like  it,"  said  Stella,  with  an  expression  of 
great  satisfaction;  "because  up  here  you  girls 
can't  romp  around  so  and  run  as  you  do  down  on  the 
ground.  When  we  come  for  a  whole  day  let's  bring 
a  book  of  fairy  stories  and  take  turns  reading 

aloud." 

"All  right,"  said  Midge;  "let's  have  it  for  a 
sort  of  a  club,  and  meet  here  one  day  every  week." 

"Clubs  ought  to  do  something,"  observed  Molly. 
"Charity,  you  know,  or  something  like  that." 

"All  right,"  said  Midge ;  "let's  make  things  and 
then  sell  them  and  get  some  money  for  the  Dunns." 

"What  could  we  do?"  asked  Molly.  "We  could- 
n't have  another  bazaar,  and,  besides,  I  think  the 
Dunns  have  enough  money  for  the  present." 

"Don't  let's  work,"  said  Stella,  who  was  not  very 
enterprising;  "at  least,  not  when  we're  up  here. 
Let's  just  read  or  play  paper  dolls.  If  you  want 
to  work  and  make  things,  do  them  at  home." 

"I  feel  that  way,  too,"  said  Midget ;  "let's  just 

keep  this  for  a  playhouse.     But  maybe  it  isn't 

right ;  maybe  we  ought  to  do  things  for  charity." 

"Ask  your  grandma,"  said  Molly ;  "she'll  know 


198  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

what's  right.  But  I  expect  they  gave  you  this 
house  to  have  fun  in." 

"I  think  they  did,  too,"  said  Marjorie;  "and, 
anyway,  Molly,  we  could  do  both.  We  had  lots 
of  fun  getting  ready  for  the  bazaar,  and  we  did 
the  charity  besides." 

"Well,  let's  read  part  of  the  time,  anyway," 
said  Stella ;  "I  do  love  to  read  or  to  be  read  to." 

"We  will,"  agreed  Marjorie,  amiably,  and  Molly 
agreed,  too. 


CHAPTER  XV 

THE    BROKEN    LADDEB 

As  the  days  went  on,  "Breezy  Inn"  became  more 
and  more  a  delight  to  the  children.  They  never 
grew  tired  of  it,  but,  on  the  contrary,  new  at- 
tractions connected  with  it  were  forever  develop- 
ing. Many  additions  had  been  made  to  the  fur- 
nishings, each  of  the  three  girls  having  brought 
over  treasures  from  her  own  store. 

They  had  reading  days,  and  paper-doll  days, 
and  game-playing  days,  and  feast  days,  and  days 
when  they  did  nothing  but  sit  on  the  little  veranda 
and  make  plans.  Often  their  plans  were  not  car- 
ried out,  and  often  they  were,  but  nobody  cared 
much  which  way  it  happened.  Sometimes  Stella 
sat  alone  on  the  little  porch,  reading.  This  would 
usually  be  when  Molly  and  Midge  were  climbing 
high  up  into  the  branches  of  the  old  maple-trees. 
It  was  very  delightful  to  be  able  to  step  off  of 
199 


200  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

one's  own  veranda  onto  the  branch  of  a  tree  and 
then  climb  on  up  and  up  toward  the  blue  sky.  And 
especially,  there  being  two  girls  to  climb,  it  was 
very  useful  to  have  two  trees. 

But  not  every  day  did  the  girls  spend  in  "Breezy 
Inn."  Sometimes  they  roamed  in  the  woods,  or 
went  rowing  on  the  river,  and  sometimes  they  vis< 
ited  at  each  other's  houses. 

One  pleasant  afternoon  in  late  July,  Marjorie 
asked  Grandma  if  she  mightn't  go  to  spend  the 
afternoon  at  Stella's. 

Mrs.  Sherwood  liked  to  have  her  go  to  Stella's, 
as  the  influence  of  the  quiet  little  girl  helped  to 
subdue  Marjorie's  more  excitable  disposition,  and 
about  three  o'clock  Marjorie  started  off. 

Grandma  Sherwood  looked  after  the  child,  as 
she  walked  away,  with  admiring  eyes.  Marjorie 
wore  a  dainty  frock  of  white  dimity,  scattered 
with  tiny  pink  flowers.  A  pink  sash  and  hair- 
ribbons  were  fresh  and  crisply  tied,  and  she  carried 
the  pretty  parasol  Stella  had  given  her  on  her 
birthday. 

With  Marjorie,  to  be  freshly  dressed  always 


THE  BROKEN  LADDER  201 

made  her  walk  decorously,  and  Grandma  smiled  as 
she  saw  the  little  girl  pick  her  way  daintily  down 
the  walk  to  the  front  gate,  and  along  the  road 
to  Stella's,  which,  though  only  next  door,  was 
several  hundred  yards  away. 

As  Marjorie  passed  out  of  sight,  Grandma 
sighed  a  little  to  think  how  quickly  the  summer 
was  flying  by,  for  she  dearly  loved  to  have  her 
grandchildren  with  her,  and  though,  perhaps,  not 
to  be  called  favorite,  yet  Marjorie  was  the  oldest 
and  possessed  a  very  big  share  of  her  grand- 
mother's affection. 

Soon  after  she  reached  Stella's,  Molly  came  fly- 
ing over.  Molly,  too,  had  on  a  clean  afternoon 
dress,  but  that  never  endowed  her  with  a  sense 
of  decorum,  as  it  did  Marjorie. 

"Hello,  girls,"  she  cried,  as  she  climbed  over  the 
veranda-railing  and  plumped  herself  down  in  the 
hammock.  "What  are  we  going  to  do  this  after- 
noon ?" 

"Let's  read,"  said  Stella,  promptly. 

"Read,  read,  read !"  said  Molly.  "I'm  tired  of 
your  everlasting  reading.  Let's  play  tennis." 


202  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

"It's  too  hot  for  tennis,"  said  Stella,  "and,  be- 
sides, you  girls  haven't  tennis  shoes  on  and  you'd 
spoil  your  shoes  and  the  court,  too." 

"Oh,  what  do  you  think,"  said  Mopsy,  suddenly ; 
"I  have  the  loveliest  idea !  Only  we  can't  do  it  this 
afternoon,  because  we're  all  too  much  dressed  up. 
But  I'll  tell  you  about  it,  and  we  can  begin  to- 
morrow morning." 

"What's  your  idea  ?"  said  Molly,  rousing  herself 
in  the  hammock  and  sitting  with  her  chin  in  both 
hands  as  she  listened. 

"Why,  I  read  it  in  the  paper,"  said  Marjorie, 
"and  it's  this.  And  it's  a  lovely  way  to  make 
money;  we  could  make  quite  a  lot  for  the  Dunns. 
It  will  be  some  trouble,  but  it  would  be  a  lot  of  fun, 
too." 

"Yes,  but  what  is  it,"  said  Stella,  in  her  quietly 
patient  way. 

"You  go  out  into  the  field,"  began  Marjorie, 
"and  you  gather  heaps  and  heaps  of  pennyroyal, — 
you  take  baskets,  you  know,  and  gather  just  pecks 
of  it.  Then  you  take  it  home  and  you  put  it  in 
pails  or  tubs  or  anything  with  a  lot  of  water.  And 


THE  BROKEN  LADDER 

then  you  leave  it  about  two  days,  and  then  you 
drain  it  off,  and  then  it's  pennyroyal  extract." 

Marjorie  announced  the  last  words  with  a  tri- 
umphant air,  but  her  hearers  did  not  seem  very 
much  impressed. 

"What  then?"  asked  Molly,  evidently  awaiting 
something  more  startling. 

"Why,  then,  you  put  it  in  bottles,  and  paste 
labels  on,  and  take  it  all  around  and  sell  it  to  peo- 
ple. They  love  to  have  it,  you  know,  for  mosquitoes 
or  burns  or  something,  and  they  pay  you  quite  a 
lot,  and  then  you  have  the  money  for  charity." 

The  artistic  possibilities  began  to  dawn  upon 
Stella. 

"Yes,"  she  said,  "and  I  could  make  lovely  labels, 
with  fancy  letters ;  and  you  and  Molly  could  paste 
them  on,  and  we  could  tie  the  corks  in  with  little 
blue  ribbons,  like  perfumery  bottles." 

"And  we'll  each  bring  bottles,"  cried  Molly,  be- 
coming interested;  "we  have  lots  at  our  house. 
Let's  start  out  now  to  gather  the  pennyroyal. 
We're  not  so  awfully  dressed  up.  This  frock  will 
wash,  anyway." 


204  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

"So  will  mine,"  said  Marjorie,  but  she  spoke 
with  hesitation.  She  knew  that  Grandma  would 
not  like  to  have  her  wear  that  dainty  fresh  frock 
out  into  the  fields. 

But,  for  some  reason,  Stella,  too,  was  inclined 
to  go,  and  with  the  trio,  two  against  one  always 
carried  the  day ;  and  linking  arms,  in  half  a 
minute  the  three  were  skipping  away  toward 
the  field.  They  had  not  asked  permission, 
because  the  fields  were  part  of  Mr.  Martin's  prop- 
erty, and  Stella  was  practically  on  her  own 
home  ground,  though  at  a  good  distance  from 
the  house. 

Enthusiastic  over  their  new  plan,  the  girls 
worked  with  a  will,  and,  having  carelessly  gone 
off  without  any  basket,  they  found  themselves 
obliged  to  hold  up  the  skirts  of  their  dresses  to 
carry  their  harvest. 

"I  should  think  we  had  enough  to  sell  to  every- 
body in  Morristown,"  declared  Molly,  as,  tired 
and  fl»shed,  she  surveyed  the  great  heap  she  had 
piled  into  her  dress  skirt. 

"So  should  I,"  agreed  Midget,  gathering  ug 


THE  BROKEN  LADDER  205 

more  and  more  of  her  pretty  dimity,  now,  alas! 
rumpled  and  stained  almost  beyond  recognition. 

Stella  had  a  good  share,  though  not  so  much  as 
the  others,  and  she  stood  calmly  inquiring  what 
they  were  going  to  do  with  it. 

"There's  no  use  taking  it  to  my  house,"  she 
declared,  "for  mother  would  only  tell  me  to  throw 
it  away, — I  know  she  would." 

"Wouldn't  she  let  us  make  the  extract?"  asked 

Marjorie. 

"She  wouldn't  care  how  much  we  made  it,  but  she 
wouldn't  let  me  make  it  at  home,  I  know,  because 
she  hates  a  mess." 

"I  don't  believe  Grandma  would  like  it  either," 
said  Marjorie,  with  a  sudden  conviction;  "it  is  aw- 
ful messy,  and  it  smells  pretty  strong.  But  I'll 
tell  you  what,  girls:  let's  take  it  all  right  to 
'Breezy  Inn.'  Then  we  can  put  it  to  soak  right 
away.  We  can  get  water  from  the  brook,  and 
there  are  plenty  of  pails  and  things  there  to  make 
the  extract  in." 

"We  can  call  it  The  Breezy  Extract,"  said 
Stella ;  "that'll  look  pretty  painted  on  the  labels." 


206  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

"Breezy  Extract  is  silly,"  said  Molly ;  "Breezy- 
Inn  Extract  is  prettier." 

"All  right,"  said  Stella,  good-naturedly. 
"Come  on,  I'm  in  a  hurry  to  begin.  I'll  paint 
the  labels,  while  you  girls  make  the  stuff." 

So  they  trudged  across  the  field  to  Breezy  Inn, 
dumped  their  heaps  of  pennyroyal  into  the  dumb- 
waiter, and  themselves  scrambled  gayly  up  the 
rope  ladder. 

Almost  before  Molly  and  Midge  had  pulled  up 
their  somewhat  odorous  burden,  Stella  had  seated 
herself  at  the  table  to  work  at  the  labels.  The 
child  was  devoted  to  work  of  this  sort,  and  was 
soon  absorbed  in  designing  artistic  letters  to  adorn 
the  bottles. 

Midge  and  Molly  worked  away  with  a  will.  Un- 
heeding their  pretty  summer  frocks,  and,  indeed, 
there  was  little  use  now  for  care  in  that  direction, 
they  brought  water  from  the  brook,  hauled  it  up 
the  dumbwaiter,  and  filled  several  good-sized  re- 
ceptacles with  steeping  pennyroyal  flowers. 

Their  work  finished,  they  were  anxious  to  start 
for  home  at  once  and  begin  a  search  for  the  bot- 


THE  BROKEN  LADDER  207 

ties,  but  Stella  begged  them  to  stay  a  little  longer 
until  she  should  have  finished  the  design  she  was 

making. 

So  Midge  and  Molly  wandered  out  on  the  ve- 
randa, and  amused  themselves  by  jerking  the  rope 
ladder  up  and  down.    By  a  clever  mechanical  con- 
trivance the  ladder  went  up  and  down  something 
on  the  principle  of  an  automatic  shade  roller.    It 
was  great  fun  to  roll  it  up  and  feel  a  certain  se- 
curity in  the  thought  that  nobody  could  get  into 
"Breezy  Inn"  unless  they  saw  fit  to  let  down  the 
ladder.     Not  that  anybody  ever  wanted  to,  but  it 
was  fun  to  think  so,  and,  moreover,  the  rolling 
ladder  was  most  useful  in  the  playing  of  certain 
games,  where  an  unlucky  princess  was  imprisoned 
in  a  castle  tower. 

But  somehow,  as  they  were  idly  jerking  the  lad- 
der up  and  down,  an  accident  happened.  Some- 
thing snapped  at  the  top,  and  with  a  little  crack- 
ing sound,  the  whole  ladder  broke  loose  from  its 
fastenings  and  fell  to  the  ground. 

"Oh,  Midget!"  cried  Molly,  aghast,  "whatever 
shall  we  do  now?  We  can't  get  down,  and  we'll 


208  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

have  to  stay  here  until  somebody  happens  to  come 
by  this  way." 

"That  may  not  be  for  several  days,"  said 
Midget,  cheerfully.  "Carter  never  hardly  comes 
down  into  this  meadow.  Pooh,  Molly,  we  can  get 
down  some  way." 

"Yes;  but  how?"  insisted  Molly,  who  realized 
the  situation  more  truly  than  Marjorie. 

"Oh,  I  don't  know,"  responded  Midge,  care- 
lessly. "We  might  go  down  in  the  dumb- 
waiter." 

"No ;  your  uncle  said,  positively,  we  must  never 
go  down  on  that.  It  isn't  strong  enough  to  hold 
even  one  of  us  at  a  time." 

"I  guess  I  could  jump." 

"I  guess  you  couldn't !  You'd  sprain  your 
ankles  and  break  your  collar  bones." 

"Oh,  pshaw,  Molly,  there  must  be  some  way 
down.  Let's  ask  Stella.  She  can  always  think 
of  something." 

"No ;  don't  tell  Stella.  She  can't  think  of  any 
ceay,  and  it  would  scare  her  to  pieces.  I  tell  you, 
Mops,  there  isn't  any  way  down.  It's  too  high 


THE  BROKEN  LADDER  209 

to  jump  and  we  can't  climb.    We  could  climb  up 
the  tree,  but  not  down" 

At  last  Marjorie  began  to  realize  that  they  were 
in  a  difficulty.  She  looked  all  around  the  house, 
and  there  really  was  no  way  by  which  the  girls 
could  get  down.  They  went  into  the  living-room, 
where  Stella  sat  at  the  table,  drawing. 

"I'm  ready  to  go  home,"  she  said,  looking 
up  as  they  entered.  "This  is  finished,  and, 
anyway,  it's  getting  so  dark  I  can't  see  any 

more." 

"Dark!"  exclaimed  Marjorie.     "Why,  it  isn't 

five  o'clock  yet." 

"I  don't  care  what  time  it  is,"  said  Stella ;  "it's 
getting  awfully  dark,  just  the  same." 

And  sure  enough  it  was,  and  a  few  glances  at 
the  sky  showed  the  reason.  What  was  undoubted- 
edly  a  severe  thunderstorm  was  rapidly  approach- 
ing, and  dark  masses  of  cloud  began  to  roll  over 
each  other  and  pile  up  higher  and  higher  toward 

the  zenith. 

"It's  a  thunder  shower,  that's  what  it  is,"  de- 
clared   Stella;   "let's    scramble   down   the   ladder 


210  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

quick,  and  run  for  home.  Let's  all  run  to  your 
house,  Marjorie,  it's  nearer." 

Midge  and  Molly  looked  at  each  other. 

There  was  no  help  for  it,  so  Marjorie  said:  "We 
can't  go  down  the  ladder,  Stella,  because  it's 
broken  down." 

"What!    Who  broke  it?" 

"We  did,"  said  Molly ;  "that  is,  we  were  play- 
ing with  it  and  somehow  it  broke  itself.  Of 
course,  we  didn't  do  it  on  purpose." 

Stella's  face  turned  white.  "How  shall  we  get 
down?"  she  said. 

"We  can't  get  down,"  said  Midge,  cheerfully; 
"we'll  have  to  stay  up.  But  the  roof  doesn't  leak ; 
I  asked  Uncle,  and  he  said  it  was  perfectly  water- 
tight." 

"But  I  don't  want  to  stay  up  here  in  a  storm," 
said  Stella,  and  her  lips  began  to  quiver. 

"Now,  don't  you  cry,  Stella !"  said  Molly,  who, 
if  truth  be  told,  was  on  the  verge  of  tears  herself. 

Meantime,  the  darkness  was  rapidly  increasing. 
It  was  one  of  those  sudden  showers  where  a  black 
pall  of  cloud  seems  to  envelop  the  whole  universe, 


THE  BROKEN  LADDER  211 

and  the  very  air  takes  on  a  chill  that  strikes  a  ter- 
ror of  its  own,  even  to  a  stout  heart. 

The  three  little  girls  sat  looking  at  each  other 
in  despair. 

Each  was  very  much  frightened,  but  each  was 
trying  to  be  brave.  It  had  all  happened  so  sud- 
denly that  they  had  even  yet  scarcely  realized  that 
they  were  in  real  danger,  when  suddenly  a  terrible 
clap  of  thunder  burst  directly  above  their  heads, 
accompanied  by  a  blinding  flash  of  lightning. 

Stella  screamed  and  then  burst  into  wild  crying ; 
Molly  turned  white  and  gritted  her  teeth  in  a 
determination  not  to  cry;  while  Marjorie,  with 
big  tears  rolling  down  her  cheeks,  put  her  arms 
around  Stella  in  a  vain  endeavor  to  comfort 

her. 

Molly  crept  up  to  the  other  two,  and  intertwin- 
ing their  arms,  the  three  huddled  together,  shiver- 
ing with  fear  and  dismay. 

One  after  another,  the  terrible  thunderbolts 
crashed  and  rolled,  and  the  fearful  lightning 
glared  at  intervals. 

Then,  with  a  swish  and  a  splash,  the  rain  began. 


212  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

It  came  down  in  gusty  torrents,  and  dashed  in  at 
the  open  windows  like  a  spray. 

Molly  and  Marjorie  jumped  up  and  flew  to  shut 
the  windows,  but  Stella  remained  crouched  in  a 
pathetic  little  heap. 

"Somebody  will  come  to  get  us,"  whispered 
Molly,  trying  to  be  hopeful  and  to  cheer  the 
others. 

"No,  they  won't,"  said  Marjorie,  despairingly; 
"for  Grandma  thinks  I'm  over  at  Stella's,  and  your 
mother  thinks  you're  there,  too." 

"Yes,  but  Stella's  mother  will  hunt  us  up ;  some- 
body is  sure  to  come,"  persisted  Molly. 

"No,  she  won't,"  said  a  weak  little  voice ;  "for  I 
told  Mother  that  we  might  stay  home  this  after- 
noon, and  we  might  go  over  to  Molly's.  And  she'll 
think  we're  over  there." 

"It  wouldn't  matter  if  the  ladder  -was  up,"  said 
Molly,  "for  we  couldn't  go  out  in  this  pouring 
rain,  and  we  might  get  struck  by  lightning,  too." 

"Under  a  tree  is  the  very  worst  place  to  be  in  a 
thunderstorm,"  said  Stella,  lifting  her  white,  little 
face,  and  staring  at  the  girls  with  big,  scared  eyes. 


THE  BROKEN  LADDER  213 

Just  then  another  terrible  crash  and  flash  made 
them  all  grasp  each  other  again,  and  then,  without 
further  restraint,  they  all  cried  together. 

The  storm  increased.  The  winds  simply  raged, 
and  though  the  old  maple-trees  were  too  sturdy  to 
shake  much,  yet  the  little  house  swayed  some,  and 
all  about  could  be  heard  the  cracking  and  snap- 
ping of  branches. 

"I  think "  began  Molly,  but  even  as  she 

spoke  there  came  the  loudest  crash  of  all.  It  was 
the  splitting  of  the  heavens,  and  with  it  came  a 
fierce,  sudden  flash  of  flame  that  blinded  them  all. 

The  girls  fell  apart  from  one  another  through 
the  mere  shock,  and  when  Molly  and  Midge 
dazedly  opened  their  eyes,  they  saw  Stella  crum- 
pled in  a  little  heap  on  the  floor. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

FIRECRACKERS 

"Is  she  dead?"  screamed  Molly.  "Oh,  Marjorie, 
is  she  dead?" 

"I  don't  know,"  said  Marjorie,  whose  face  was 
almost  as  white  as  Stella's,  as  she  leaned  over  the 
unconscious  little  girl. 

Although  they  tried,  they  couldn't  quite  manage 
to  lift  Stella  up  on  the  couch,  so  Marjorie  sat  down 
on  the  floor  and  took  the  poor  child's  head  on  her 
knee,  while  Molly  ran  for  water. 

"I'm  sure  it's  right  to  douse  people  with  water 
when  they  faint,"  said  Molly,  as  she  sprinkled 
Stella's  face  liberally ;  "and  she  is  only  in  a  faint, 
isn't  she,  Marjorie?  Because  if  people  are  really 
struck  by  lightning  they  burn  up,  don't  they,  Mar- 
jorie?" 

While  she  talked,  Molly  was  excitedly  pouring 
214 


FIRECRACKERS  215 

water  promiscuously  over  Stella,  until  the  child 
looked  as  if  she  had  been  out  in  the  storm. 

Marjorie  was  patting  Stella's  cheek  and  rubbing 
her  hands,  but  it  all  seemed  of  no  avail;  and, 
though  Stella  was  breathing  softly,  they  could  not 
restore  her  to  consciousness. 

"It's  dreadful,"  said  Marjorie,  turning  to  Molly 
with  a  look  of  utter  despair,  "and  we  must  do 
something!  It  isn't  right  for  us  two  little  girls 
to  try  to  take  care  of  Stella.  We  must  get  Grand- 
ma here,  somehow." 

"But  how  can  we?"  said  Molly.  "The  ladder  is 
down,  you  know,  and  we  can't  possibly  get  down 
from  the  house.  I'd  try  to  jump,  but  it's  fifteen 
feet,  and  I'd  be  sure  to  break  some  bones,  and  we'd 
be  v^orse  off  than  ever." 

The  two  girls  were  too  frightened  to  cry;  they 
were  simply  appalled  by  the  awful  situation  and 
at  their  wits'  end  to  know  what  to  do. 

"It  was  bad  enough,"  wailed  Marjorie,  "when 
we  were  all  wide  awake  and  could  be  frightened  to- 
gether ;  but  with  Stella  asleep,  or  whatever  she  is, 
it's  perfectly  horrible." 


216  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

"She  isn't  asleep,"  said  Molly,  scrutinizing  the 
pale  little  face,  "but  she's  stunned  with  the  shock, 
and  I'm  sure  I  don't  know  what  to  do.  We  ought 
to  have  smelling-salts,  or  something,  to  bring 
her  to." 

"We  ought  to  have  somebody  that  knows  some- 
thing to  look  after  her.  Molly,  we  must  get 
Grandma  here.  I  believe  I'll  try  to  jump  myself, 
but  I  suppose  I'd  just  sprain  my  ankle  and  lie 
there  in  the  storm  till  I  was  all  washed  away. 
What  can  we  do?" 

"We  could  holler,  but  nobody  could  hear  us, 
it's  raining  so  hard.  The  thunder  and  lightning 
aren't  so  bad  now,  but  the  rain  and  wind  are 
fearful." 

Molly  was  flying  about  the  room,  peeping  out  at 
one  window  after  another,  and  then  flying  back 
to  look  at  Stella,  who  still  lay  unconscious. 

"If  we  only  had  a  megaphone,"  said  Marjorie, 
"though  I  don't  believe  we  could  scream  loud 
enough  through  that  even,  to  make  Carter  hear. 
What  do  people  do  when  they're  shipwrecked  ?" 

"They  send  up  rockets,"  said  Molly,  wisely. 


FIRECRACKERS  217 

"We  haven't  any  rockets;  but,  oh,  Molly!  we 
have  some  firecrackers.  They've  been  here  ever 
since  Fourth  of  July ;  those  big  cannon  crackers, 
you  know !  Do  you  suppose  we  could  fire  off  some 
of  those,  and  Carter  would  hear  them?" 

"The  very  thing !  But  how  can  we  fire  them  in 
this  awful  rain?  It  would  put  them  right  out." 

"We  must  do  it !    It's  our  only  chance !" 

Carefully  putting  a  pillow  under  Stella's  head, 
they  left  her  lying  on  the  floor,  while  they  ran  for 
the  firecrackers. 

Sure  enough  they  were  big  ones,  and  there  were 
plenty  of  them.  It  would  be  difficult  to  fire  them 
in  the  rain,  but,  as  Marjorie  said,  it  must  be  done. 
Keeping  them  carefully  in  a  covered  box,  the  girls 
went  out  on  the  little  veranda,  closing  the  door 
behind  them.  A  wooden  box,  turned  up  on  its  side, 
formed  sufficient  protection  from  the  rain  to  get 
a  cracker  lighted,  and  Marjorie  bravely  held  it 
until  it  was  almost  ready  to  explode,  and  then 
flung  it  out  into  the  storm.  It  went  off,  but  to 
the  anxious  girls  the  noise  seemed  muffled  by  the 
rain. 


218  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

They  tried  another  and  another,  but  with  little 
hope  that  Carter  would  hear  them. 

"Let's  put  them  all  in  a  tin  pan,"  said  Mar- 
jorie,  "and  put  the  box  on  top  of  them  to  keep 
them  dry,  and  then  set  them  all  off  at  once." 

"All  right,"  said  Molly,  "but  I'm  afraid  Carter 
will  think  it's  thunder." 

However,  it  seemed  the  best  plan,  and  after 
lighting  the  end  of  the  twisted  string,  the  girls 
ran  into  the  house  and  shut  the  door. 

Such  a  racket  as  followed!  The  crackers  went 
off  all  at  once.  The  box  flew  off,  and  the  tin  pan 
tumbled  down,  and  the  little  veranda  was  a  sight 
to  behold ! 

It  sounded  like  Fourth  of  July,  but  to  the  two 
girls,  watching  from  the  window,  there  was  no 
effect  of  celebration. 

But  their  desperate  plan  succeeded.  Carter 
heard  the  racket,  and  did  not  mistake  it  for  thun- 
der; but,  strangely  enough,  realized  at  once  what 
it  was. 

"It's  them  crazy  children  in  their  tree-house," 
he  exclaimed;  "but  what  the  mischief  do  they  be 


FIRECRACKERS  219 

settin'  off  firecrackers  for,  in  the  pouring  rain? 
Howsomever  I'll  just  go  and  see  what's  up,  for 
like  as  not  they've  burned  their  fingers,  if  so  be 
that  they  haven't  put  their  eyes  out." 

As  Carter  started  from  the  greenhouse,  where 
he  had  been  working,  the  torrents  of  rain  that  beat 
in  his  face  almost  made  him  change  his  mind, 
but  he  felt  a  sense  of  uneasiness  about  Marjorie, 
and  something  prompted  him  to  go  on.  In  a  stout 
raincoat,  and  under  a  big  umbrella,  he  made  his 
way  across  the  field  through  the  storm  toward 
"Breezy  Inn." 

"My  land!"  he  exclaimed,  "if  that  ladder  ain't 
disappeared.  What  will  them  youngsters  be  up  to 
next?" 

But  even  as  he  noticed  the  broken  ladder,  the 
door  flew  open,  and  Marjorie  and  Molly  popped 
their  heads  out. 

"Oh,  Carter!"  Marjorie  screamed;  "do  get  a 
ladder,  and  hurry  up !  Ours  is  broken  down,  and 
Stella  is  struck  by  lightning,  and,  oh,  Carter,  do 
help  us !" 

Carter  took  in  the  situation  at  a  glance.     He 


220  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

said  nothing,  for  it  was  no  time  for  words.  He 
saw  the  broken  ladder  could  not  be  repaired  in  a 
minute;  and,  turning,  he  ran  swiftly  back  to  the 
barn  for  another  ladder.  A  long  one  was  neces- 
sary, and  with  Moses  to  help  him  they  hurried 
the  ladder  across  the  field  and  raised  it. 

Another  fortunate  effect  of  the  firecracker  ex- 
plosion had  been  to  rouse  Stella.  Partly  owing 
to  the  noise  of  the  explosion,  and  partly  because 
the  effect  of  the  shock  was  wearing  away,  Stella 
had  opened  her  eyes  and,  realizing  what  had  hap- 
pened, promptly  made  up  for  lost  time  by  begin- 
ning to  cry  violently.  Also,  the  reaction  at  finding 
Stella  herself  again,  and  the  relief  caused  by  the 
appearance  of  Carter,  made  Molly  and  Marjorie 
also  break  down,  and  when  Carter  came  bounding 
up  the  ladder  he  found  three  girls,  soaking  wet  as 
to  raiment,  and  diligently  adding  to  the  general 
dampness  by  fast-flowing  tears. 

"What  is  it,  now?"  he  inquired,  and  if  his  tone 
sounded  impatient,  it  was  scarcely  to  be  wondered 
at.  For  the  battle-scarred  veranda  and  the 
drenched  condition  of  the  room,  together  with  a 


FIRECRACKERS  221 

broken  ladder,  surely  betokened  mischief  of  some 
sort. 

"Oh,  Carter,"  cried  Marjorie,  "never  mind  us, 
but  can't  you  take  Stella  to  the  house  somehow? 
She  was  struck  by  lightning,  and  she's  been  dead 
for  hours !  She  only  just  waked  up  when  she  heard 
the  firecrackers  !  Did  you  hear  them,  Carter?" 

"Did  I  hear  them !  I  did  that — not  being  deef . 
Faith,  I  thought  it  was  the  last  trump!  You're 
a  caution,  Miss  Midget!"  But  even  as  Carter 
spoke  he  began  to  realize  that  the  situation  was 
more  serious  than  a  mere  childish  scrape.  He  had 
picked  up  little  Stella,  who  was  very  limp  and 
white,  and  who  was  still  sobbing  hysterically. 

"Struck  by  lightning,  is  it?  There,  there,  little 
girl,  never  mind  now,  I'll  take  care  «f  ye." 

Holding  Stella  gently  in  his  arms,  Carter  looked 
out  of  the  window  and  considered. 

"I  could  take  her  down  the  ladder,  Miss  Midget, 
but  it's  raining  so  hard  she'd  be  drenched  before 
we  could  reach  the  house.  Not  flhat  she  could 
be  much  wetter  than  she  is.  Was  she  out  in  the 
rain?" 


MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

"No,  that's  where  we  threw  water  on  her  to  make 
her  unfaint  herself.  Can't  we  all  go  home,  Car- 
ter? Truly  we  can't  get  any  wetter,  and  we'll  all 
catch  cold  if  we  don't." 

"That's  true,"  agreed  Carter,  as  he  deliberated 
what  was  best  to  do. 

Though  not  a  large  man,  Carter  seemed  to  fill 
the  little  room  with  his  grown-up  presence,  and  the 
children  were  glad  to  shift  their  responsibility  on 
to  him. 

"The  thunder  is  melting  away,"  he  said  at  last, 
"and  the  lightning  is  nothin'  to  speak  of;  and  a 
drop  more  of  wet  won't  hurt  you,  so  I  think  I'd 
better  take  ye  all  to  your  grandma's  as  soon  as 
possible.  I'll  carry  little  Miss  Stella,  and  do  ye 
other  two  climb  down  the  ladder  mighty  careful 
and  don't  add  no  broken  necks  to  your  distresses." 

So  down  the  ladder,  which  Moses  on  the  ground 
was  holding  firmly,  Carter  carried  Stella,  who, 
though  fully  conscious,  was  nervous  and  shaken, 
and  clung  tightly  around  Carter's  neck. 

Midge  and  Molly  followed,  and  then  the  proces- 
sion struck  out  across  the  field  for  home. 


FIRECRACKERS  223 

"I  s'pose,"  whispered  Midget  to  Molly,  "it's 
perfectly  awful ;  but  now  that  Stella's  all  right,  I 
can't  help  thinking  this  is  sort  of  fun,  to  be  walk- 
ing out  in  the  storm,  without  any  umbrella,  and 
soaking  wet  from  head  to  foot!" 

Molly  squeezed  her  friend's  hand.  "I  think  so, 
too,"  she  whispered.  "The  thunder  and  lightning 
were  terrible,  and  I  was  almost  scared  to  death; 
but  now  that  everything's  all  right,  I  can't  help 
feeling  gay  and  glad!" 

And  so  these  two  reprehensible  young  madcaps 
smiled  at  each  other,  and  trudged  merrily  along 
across  soaking  fields,  in  a  drenching  rain,  and 
rescued  from  what  had  been  a  very  real  danger 
indeed. 

During  all  this,  Grandma  Sherwood  had  been 
sitting  placidly  in  her  room,  assuming  that  Mar- 
jorie  was  safely  under  shelter  next  door.  Molly's 
mother  had,  of  course,  thought  the  same,  and 
Stella's  mother,  finding  the  girls  nowhere  about, 
had  concluded  they  were  either  at  Molly's  or  Mar- 
jorie's. 

Owing  to  the   condition  of  the  party  he  was 


224  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

bringing,  Carter  deemed  it  best  to  make  an  en- 
trance by  the  kitchen  door. 

"There!"  he  said,  as  he  landed  the  dripping 
Stella  on  a  wooden  chair,  "for  mercy's  sake,  Eliza, 
get  the  little  lady  into  dry  clothes  as  quick  as  you 
can !" 

"The  saints  presarve  us !"  exclaimed  Eliza,  for 
before  she  had  time  to  realize  Stella's  presence, 
Midge  and  Molly  bounded  in,  scattering  spray  all 
over  the  kitchen  and  dripping  little  pools  of  water 
from  their  wet  dresses. 

Stella  had  ceased  crying,  but  looked  weak  and 
ill.  The  other  two,  on  the  contrary,  were  capering 
about,  unable  to  repress  their  enjoyment  of  this 
novel  game. 

Hearing  the  commotion,  Grandma  Sherwood 
came  to  the  kitchen,  and  not  unnaturally  supposed 
it  all  the  result  of  some  new  prank. 

"What  have  you  been  doing?"  she  exclaimed. 
"Why  didn't  you  stay  at  Stella's  and  not  try  to 
come  home  through  this  rain?" 

Marjorie,  drenched  as  she  was,  threw  herself 
into  her  grandmother's  arms. 


FIRECRACKERS 

"Oh,  if  you  only  knew !"  she  cried ;  "you  came 
near  not  having  your  bad  little, Mopsy  any  more! 
And  Stella's  mother  came  nearer  yet!  Why, 
Grandma,  we  were  in  the  tree-house,  and  it  was 
struck  by  lightning,  and  Stella  was  killed,  at  least 
for  a  little  while,  and  the  ladder  broke  down,  and 
we  couldn't  get  down  ourselves,  and  so  we  sent 
off  rockets  of  distress,  I  mean  firecrackers,  and 
then  Carter  came  and  rescued  us  all !" 

As  Marjorie  went  on  with  her  narrative,  Grand- 
ma Sherwood  began  to  understand  that  the  chil- 
dren had  been  in  real  danger,  and  she  clasped  her 
little  grandchild  closer  until  her  own  dress  was 
nearly  as  wet  as  the  rest  of  them. 

"And  so  you  see,  Grandma,"  she  proceeded, 
somewhat  triumphantly,  "it  wasn't  mischief  a  bit ! 
It  was  a — an  accident  that  might  have  happened 
to  anybody;  and,  oh,  Grandma  dear,  wasn't  it  a 
narrow  squeak  for  Stella!" 

"Howly  saints!"  ejaculated  Eliza;  "to  think  of 
them  dear  childer  bein'  shtruck  be  thunder,  an' 
mighty  near  killed!  Och,  but  ye're  the  chrazy 
wans !  Whyever  did  ye  go  to  yer  tree-top  shanty 


226  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

in  such  a  shtorm?  Bad  luck  to  the  botherin'  little 
house !" 

"Of  course  it  didn't  rain  when  we  went  there," 
said  Marjorie,  who  was  now  dancing  around  Eliza, 
and  flirting  her  wet  ruffles  at  her,  in  an  endeavor  to 
tease  the  good-natured  cook. 

But  even  as  they  talked,  Mrs.  Sherwood  and 
Eliza  were  taking  precautions  against  ill  effects 
of  the  storm. 

Mrs.  Sherwood  devoted  her  attention  to  Stella, 
as  the  one  needing  it  most,  while  Eliza  looked  after 
the  other  two. 

The  three  children  were  treated  to  a  hot  bath 
and  vigorous  rubbings,  and  dry  clothes,  and  in  a 
short  time,  attired  in  various  kimonos  and  dress- 
ing-gowns from  Marjorie's  wardrobe,  the  three 
victims  sat  in  front  of  the  kitchen  range,  drinking 
hot  lemonade  and  eating  ginger  cookies. 

As  Marjorie  had  said,  there  had  been  no  wrong- 
doing; not  even  a  mischievous  prank,  except,  per- 
haps, the  breaking  down  of  the  ladder,  and  yet  it 
seemed  a  pity  that  Stella  should  have  suffered  the 
most,  when  she  never  would  have  dreamed  of  stay- 


FIRECRACKERS  227 

ing  at  the  tree-house  after  it  began  to  look  like 
rain,  had  it  not  been  for  the  others. 

However,  there  was  certainly  no  scolding  or 
punishment  merited  by  any  one;  and  Grandma 
Sherwood  was  truly  thankful  that  the  three  were 
safe  under  her  roof. 

After  the  storm  had  entirely  cleared  away,  Car- 
ter carried  Stella  home,  and  Mrs.  Sherwood  went 
with  them  to  explain  matters.  Molly  went  skip- 
ping home,  rather  pleased  than  otherwise,  to  have 
such  an  exciting  adventure  to  relate  to  her 
mother. 

When  Uncle  Steve  came  home  he  was  greatly  in- 
terested in  Midget's  tale  of  the  tragedy,  and  greatly 
pleased  that  small  heroine  of  the  occasion  by  com- 
plimenting her  on  her  ingenuity  in  using  the  fire- 
crackers. The  breaking  of  the  ladder,  he  declared, 
was  an  accident,  and  said  a  new  and  stronger  one 
should  be  put  up.  Furthermore,  he  decreed  that 
a  telephone  connection  should  be  established  be- 
tween "Breezy  Inn"  and  Grandma's  house,  so  that 
victims  of  any  disaster  could  more  easily  summon 
aid. 


228  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

"That  will  be  lovely,"  said  Marjorie,  <cbut  they 
say  telephones  are  dangerous  in  thunderstorms ; 
so,  perhaps,  it's  just  as  well  that  we  didn't  have 
one  there  to-dajo" 


CHAPTER  XVII 

PENNYROYAL 

IT  was  several  days  before  the  children  went  to 
"Breezy  Inn"  again,  but  one  pleasant  sunshiny 
morning  found  them  climbing  the  new  ladder  as 
gayly  as  if  no  unpleasant  experience  were  con- 
nected with  its  memory. 

Carter  had  cleaned  up  the  veranda,  though 
powder  marks  still  showed  in  some  places. 

"Why,  girls,"  exclaimed  Marjorie,  "here's  our 
pennyroyal  extract !  I  had  forgotten  every  single 
thing  about  it.  The  high  old  time  we  had  that 
day  swept  it  all  out  of  my  head." 

"I  remembered  it,"  said  Molly,  "but  I  thought  it 
had  to  extract  itself  for  a  week." 

"No,  four  days  is  enough.  It  must  be  done  now ; 
it  smells  so,  anyway." 

229 


280  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

The  girls  all  sniffed  at  the  pails  of  spicy-smell- 
ing water,  and,  after  wisely  dipping  their  fingers 
in  it  and  sniffing  at  them,  they  concluded  it  was 
done. 

"It's  beautiful,"  said  Marjorie;  "I  think  it's  a 
specially  fine  extract,  and  we'll  have  no  trouble  in 
selling  heaps  of  it.  Don't  let's  tell  anybody  until 
we've  made  a  whole  lot  of  money;  and  then  we'll 
tell  Grandma  it's  for  the  Dunns,  and  she'll  be  so 
surprised  to  think  we  could  do  it." 

"Where  are  the  bottles?"  asked  Stella.  "I  can 
finish  up  the  labels,  while  you  girls  are  filling  the 
bottles  and  tying  the  corks  in." 

"Let's  tie  kid  over  the  top,"  suggested  Molly, 
"like  perfume  bottles,  you  know.  You  just  take 
the  wrists  of  old  kid  gloves  and  tie  them  on  with 
a  little  ribbon,  and  then  snip  the  edges  all  around 
like  they  snip  the  edges  of  a  pie." 

"Lovely!"  cried  Midget,  "and  now  I'll  tell  you 
what:  let's  all  go  home  and  get  a  lot  of  bottles 
and  corks  and  old  kid  gloves  and  ribbons  and 
everything,  and  then  come  back  here  and  fix  the 
bottles  up  right  now." 


PENNYROYAL  231 

"You  two  go,"  said  Stella,  who  was  already  ab- 
sorbed in  the  work  of  making  labels;  "that  will 
give  me  time  to  do  these  things.  They're  going 
to  be  awfully  pretty." 

So  Midge  and  Molly  scampered  off  to  their 
homes,  and  rummaged  about  for  the  materials  they 
wanted. 

They  had  no  trouble  in  finding  them,  for  the 
elder  people  in  both  houses  were  accustomed  to 
odd  demands  from  the  children,  and  in  less  than 
half  an  hour  the  girls  were  back  again,  each  with 
a  basket  full  of  bottles,  old  gloves,  and  bits  of 
ribbon. 

"Did  your  mother  ask  you  what  you  wanted 
them  for?"  said  Mops  to  Molly. 

"No;  she  just  told  me  where  they  were,  in  a 
cupboard  in  the  attic ;  and  told  me  to  get  what  I 
wanted  and  not  bother  her,  because  she  was  mak- 
ing jelly." 

"I  got  mine  from  Eliza,  so  Grandma  doesn't 
know  anything  about  it;  and  now  we  can  keep  it 
secret,  and  have  a  lovely  surprise." 

What  might  have  seemed  work,  had  they  been 


232  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

doing  it  for  some  one  else,  was  play  to  the  chil- 
dren then ;  and  Midge  and  Molly  carefully  strained 
their  precious  extract  from  the  leaves  and  bottled 
it  and  corked  it  with  care.  They  tied  neatly  the 
bits  of  old  gloves  over  the  corks,  though  it  was 
not  an  easy  task,  and  when  finished  did  not  pre- 
sent quite  the  appearance  of  daintily-topped  per- 
fume bottles. 

And  Stella's  labels,  though  really  good  work  for 
a  little  girl  of  eleven,  were  rather  amateurish.  But 
the  three  business  partners  considered  the  labels 
admirable  works  of  art,  and  pasted  them  on  the 
bottles  with  undisguised  pride.  Though  penny- 
royal was  spelled  with  one  n,  they  didn't  notice 
it,  and  the  finished  wares  seemed  to  them  a  perfect 
result  of  skilled  labor. 

"Now,"  said  Marjorie,  as  she  sat  with  her  chin 
in  her  hands,  gazing  proudly  at  the  tableful  of 
bottles,  "it's  dinner-time.  Let's  all  go  home,  and 
then  this  afternoon,  after  we're  dressed,  let's  come 
here  and  get  the  bottles,  and  each  take  a  basket- 
ful, and  go  and  sell  them." 

"We'll  all  go  together,  won't  we?"  asked  Stella, 


PENNYROYAL  233 

whose  shyness  stood  sadly  in  the  way  of  her  being 
a  successful  saleswoman. 

"Yes,  if  you  like,"  said  Marjorie;  "we'd  get 
along  faster  by  going  separately;  but  it  will  be 
more  fun  to  go  together,  so  that's  what  we'll  do." 

About  two  o'clock,  the  three  met  again  at 
"Breezy  Inn."  Each  was  freshly  attired  in  a 
spick-and-span  clean  gingham,  and  they  wore 
large  shade  hats. 

"I  thought  Grandma  would  suspect  something 
when  I  put  my  hat  on,"  said  Marjorie,  "because  I 
always  race  out  here  without  any,  but,  by  good 
luck,  she  didn't  see  me." 

"Mother  asked  me  where  I  was  going,"  said 
Molly,  "and  I  told  her  to  'Breezy  Inn.'  It  almost 
seemed  deceitful,  but  I  think,  as  we're  working  for 
charity,  it's  all  right.  You  know  you  mustn't  let 
your  left  hand  know  what  your  right  hand  is 
up  to." 

"That  isn't  what  that  means,"  said  Stella,  who 
was  a  conscientious  little  girl;  and,  indeed,  they 
all  were,  for  though  inclined  to  mischief,  Midge 
and  Molly  never  told  stories,  even  by  implication. 


234  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

"But  I  think  it's  all  right,"  went  on  Stella, 
earnestly,  "because  it's  a  surprise.  You  know 
Christmas  or  Valentine's  day,  it's  all  right  to  sur- 
prise people,  even  if  you  have  to  'most  nearly 
deceive  them." 

And  so  with  no  qualms  of  their  honest  little 
hearts,  the  three  started  off  gayly  to  peddle  their 
dainty  wares  for  the  cause  of  charity. 

"Let's  go  straight  down  to  the  village,"  sug- 
gested Molly,  "and  let's  stop  at  every  house  on 
the  way, — there  aren't  very  many, — and  then  when 
we  get  where  the  houses  are  thicker  we  can  go 
separately  if  we  want  to." 

"I  don't  want  to,"  insisted  Stella ;  "I'll  stay  with 
one  of  you,  anyway." 

"All  right,"  said  Midget,  "and  we'll  take  turns 
in  doing  the  talking.  This  is  Mrs.  Clarke's  house ; 
shall  I  talk  here?" 

"Yes,"  said  Molly,  "and  I'll  help  you;  and  if 
Stella  doesn't  want  to  say  anything,  she  needn't." 

The  three  girls  with  their  baskets  skipped  along 
the  flower-bordered  walk  to  Mrs.  Clarke's  front 
door  and  rang  the  bell.  The  white-capped  maid, 


PENNYROYAL  235 

who  answered  the  door,  listened  to  their  inquiries 
for  Mrs.  Clarke,  looked  curiously  at  the  bottles, 
and  then  said :  "Mrs.  Clarke  is  not  at  home." 

"Are  you  sure?*'  said  Marjorie,  in  a  despairing 
voice.  It  seemed  dreadful  to  lose  a  sale  because 
the  lady  chanced  to  be  out. 

"Yes,"  said  the  maid  shortly,  and  closed  the 
door  in  the  very  faces  of  the  disappointed  chil- 
dren. 

Troubled,  but  not  disheartened,  the  girls  walked 
back  along  the  path,  a  little  less  gayly,  and 
trudged  on  to  the  next  house. 

Here  the  lady  herself  opened  the  door. 

"Do  you  want  to  buy  some  pennyroyal  extract  ?" 
began  Marjorie,  a  little  timidly,  for  the  expression 
on  the  lady's  face  was  not  at  all  cordial. 

"It's  fine,"  broke  in  Molly,  who  saw  that  Midge 
needed  her  support ;  "it's  lovely  for  mosquito  bites, 
you  just  rub  it  on  and  they're  all  gone!" 

The  lady  seemed  to  look  a  little  interested,  and 
Stella  being  honestly  anxious  to  do  her  share,  so 
far  conquered  her  timidity  as  to  say  in  a  faint 
little  voice,  "We  made  it  ourselves." 


236  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

"Made  it  yourselves  ?"  exclaimed  the  lady.  "No, 
indeed,  I  don't  want  any !"  And  again  the  cruel 
door  was  closed  upon  the  little  saleswomen. 

"It  was  my  fault,"  wailed  Stella,  as  they  went 
away  with  a  crestfallen  air;  "if  I  hadn't  said  we 
made  it  ourselves,  she  would  have  bought  it.  Oh, 
girls,  let  me  go  home  and  make  labels.  I  don't 
like  this  selling,  much." 

Midge  and  Molly  both  felt  sure  that  it  was 
Stella's  speech  that  had  stopped  the  sale,  but  they 
were  too  polite  to  say  so,  and  Midge  answered : 

"Never  mind,  Stella  dear,  I  don't  think  she  was 
very  anxious  for  it,  anyway,  but,  perhaps,  at  the 
next  house  you  needn't  say  anything.  You  don't 
mind,  do  you  ?" 

"Mind!  No,  indeed!  I  only  said  that  to  help 
along,  and  it  didn't  help." 

So,  at  the  next  house,  Stella  was  glad  to  stand 
demurely  in  the  background,  and  this  time  Molly 
took  her  turn  at  introducing  the  subject. 

A  young  lady  was  in  a  hammock  on  the  veranda, 
and  as  they  went  up  the  steps  she  rose  to  greet 
them. 


PENNYROYAL  237 

"What  in  the  world  have  you  there?"  she  said, 
gayly,  flinging  down  the  book  she  was  reading  and 
looking  at  the  children  with  interest. 

"Pennyroyal  extract,"  said  Molly,  "perfectly 
fine  for  mosquito  bites,  bruises,  cuts,  scarlet  fever, 
colds,  coughs,  or  measles." 

The  young  lady  seemed  to  think  it  very  amusing, 
and  sitting  down  on  the  top  step,  began  to  laugh. 

"It  must  be,  indeed,  handy  to  have  in  the  house," 
she  said;  "where  did  you  get  it?" 

The  girls  were  dismayed.  If  they  said  they 
made  it  themselves,  probably  she  wouldn't  buy  any. 
They  looked  at  each  other  uncertainly,  and  said 
nothing. 

"I  hope  you  came  by  it  honestly,"  went  on  the 
young  lady,  looking  at  them  in  surprise;  "you 
couldn't  have — of  course,  you  didn't— 

"Of  course  we  didn't  steal  it !"  cried  Molly,  in- 
dignantly, "if  that's  what  you  mean.  It's  ours, 
our  very  own,  every  drop  of  it!  But — we  don't 
want  to  tell  you  where  we  got  it." 

"It  sounds  delightfully  mysterious,"  said  the 
young  lady,  still  smiling  very  much,  "and  I  don't 


238  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

really  care  where  you  did  get  it.  Of  course  I  want 
some,  as  it  seems  to  be  a  very  useful  article,  and 
I'm  quite  liable  to  attacks  of — measles." 

Marjorie  looked  up  quickly  to  see  if  this  very 
pretty  young  lady  was  not  making  fun  of  them, 
but  she  seemed  to  be  very  much  in  earnest,  and, 
indeed,  was  already  selecting  a  bottle  from  each  of 
the  three  baskets. 

"I'll  take  these  three,"  she  said;  "how  much 
are  they?" 

The  girls  looked  at  each  other.  Not  once  had  it 
occurred  to  them  to  consider  what  price  they  were 
to  ask,  and  what  to  say  they  did  not  know. 

"Why,"  began  Marjorie,  "I  should  think " 

"Twenty-five  cents  apiece,"  said  Molly,  decid- 
edly. She  knew  it  was  a  large  price,  considering 
that  the  extract  cost  nothing,  but  she  wanted  to 
swell  the  charity  funds. 

"Well,  that's  very  reasonable,"  said  the  young 
lady,  who  still  seemed  very  much  amused;  "I  will 
give  you  the  money  at  once,"  and  she  .took  some 
change  from  a  little  gold  purse  which  hung  at  her 
belt.  "But  if  I  may  advise  you,"  she  went  on, 


PENNYROYAL  239 

"you'd  better  raise  your  price.     That's  really  too 
cheap  for  this  most  useful  article." 

The  children  were  so  astonished  at  this  speech 
that  they  made  no  reply,  except  to  thank  the  kind 
young  lady,  and  bid  her  good-by. 

"Now,  that's  something  like!"  exclaimed  Mar- 
jorie,  as  they  reached  the  road  again.  "Wasn't 
she  lovely  ?  And  to  think,  she  said  we  ought  to  ask 
more  money  for  the  extract!  This  is  a  splendid 
business." 

"Fine!"  agreed  Molly;  "we'll  sell  off  all  this 
to-day,  and  to-morrow  we'll  make  another  lot  and 
sell  that.  We'll  get  lots  of  money  for  the  Dunns." 

"We'll  make  more  next  time,"  said  Midge,  "and 
^I'll  get  Carter  to  drive  us  round  so  we  won't  have 
to  carry  it ;  for  we  may  sell  two  or  three  hundred 
bottles  every  day." 

"But  I  can't  make  so  many  labels,"  said  Stella, 
aghast  at  the  outlook. 

"Of  course  you  can't,"  said  Molly;  "but  I'll 
tell  you  what !  We'll  ask  them  to  give  the  bottles 
back  as  soon  as  they've  emptied  them,  and  then  we 
can  use  them  ovej  again,  you  know." 


240  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

Midge  was  a  little  dubious  about  asking  for  the 
bottles  back,  but  just  then  they  turned  into  the 
next  house. 

It  was  Marjorie's  turn  to  speak,  and  greatly 
encouraged  by  their  late  success,  she  began: 
"Would  you  like  to  buy  some  pennyroyal  extract? 
For  mosquitoes,  burns,  and  bruises.  It's  only 
fifty  cents  a  bottle,  and  we'll  take  the  bottles 
back." 

The  lady,  who  had  opened  the  door,  looked  at  the 
children  as  if  they  were  escaped  lunatics. 

"Don't  come  around  here  playing  your  tricks  on 
me,"  she  exclaimed ;  "I  won't  stand  it.  Take  your 
bottles  and  be  off !" 

She  did  not  shut  the  door  upon  them,  but  so  irate 
was  her  expression  that  the  girls  were  glad  to  go 
away. 

"Wasn't  she  awful!"  exclaimed  Stella,  with  a 
troubled  face.  "Truly,  girls,  I  don't  like  this. 
I'm  going  home." 

"No,  you're  not,  either!"  said  Marjorie.  "Of 
course,  it  isn't  all  pleasant,  but  when  you're  work- 
ing for  charity,  you  mustn't  mind  that.  And,  be- 


PENNYROYAL  Ml 

sides,  like  as  not  the  people  at  the  next  house  will 
be  lovely." 

But  they  weren't ;  and  one  after  another  the  peo- 
ple, to  whom  they  offered  their  wares,  refused  even 
to  look  at  them. 

At  last,  when  they  were  well-nigh  discouraged,  a 
kind  lady,  to  whom  they  offered  the  extract,  seemed 
a  little  more  interested  than  the  others. 

"Why,"  she  said,  looking  at  Stella,  "aren't  you 
Guy  Martin's  little  girl?" 

"Yes'm,"  said  Stella,  meekly,  wondering  if  this 
fact  would  interfere  with  the  sale  of  the 
goods. 

"Well,  then,  I  must  surely  buy  some,"  said  the 
lady,  smiling;  "how  much  is  it?" 

"Fifty  cents  a  bottle,  if  you  give  the  bottle 
back,"  said  Stella,  who  felt  that  the  lady's  friend- 
liness toward  her  demanded  that  she  should  an- 


swer. 


"Fifty  cents  a  bottle!"  exclaimed  the  lady. 
"Surely  you  can't  mean  that!  Why,  pennyroyal 
extract  isn't  worth  a  cent  a  quart !" 

The  girls  looked  genuinely  disturbed.    This  was 


242  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

a  different  opinion,  indeed,  from  that  advanced  by 
the  pretty  lady  who  had  bought  three  bottles ! 

Marjorie  suddenly  began  to  feel  as  if  she  were 
doing  something  very  foolish,  and  something  which 
she  ought  not  to  have  undertaken  without  Grand- 
ma's advice. 

"Is  that  all  it's  worth,  truly?"  she  asked,  look- 
ing straightforwardly  into  the  lady's  eyes. 

"Why,  yes,  my  dear, — I'm  sure  it  could  not 
have  a  higher  market  value." 

"Then  we  don't  want  to  sell  you  any,"  said 
Marjorie,  whose  sense  of  honesty  was  aroused;  and 
picking  up  her  basket  from  the  porch,  she  turned 
toward  the  street,  walking  fast,  and  holding  her 
head  high  in  the  air,  while  her  cheeks  grew  very 
red. 

Molly  followed  her,  uncertain  as  to  what  to  do 
next,  and  Stella  trailed  along  behind,  a  dejected 
little  figure,  indeed,  with  her  heavy  basket  on  her 
arm. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

WELCOME    GIFTS 

"IT'S  all  wrong!"  declared  Marjorie.  "I  didn't 
see  it  before,  but  I  do  now.  That  lady  was  rig,.t, 
and  we  oughtn't  to  try  to  sell  anything  that's 
worth  less  than  a  cent  for  fifty  cents,  or  twenty- 
five  either." 

"Shall  we  go  home?"  asked  Molly,  who  always 
submitted  to  Marjorie's  decisions. 

"/  don't  think  it's  wrong,"  began  Stella.  "Of 
course  the  pennyroyal  isn't  worth  much,  but  we 
worked  to  get  it,  and  to  make  it,  and  to  fix  it  up 
and  all ;  and,  besides,  people  always  pay  more  than 
things  are  worth  when  they're  for  charity." 

Marjorie's  opinion  veered  around  again.  The 
three  were  sitting  on  a  large  stepping-stone  under 
some  shady  trees,  and  Marjorie  was  thinking  out 
the  matter  to  her  own  satisfaction  before  they 
should  proceed. 

243 


244  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

"Stella,  I  believe  you're  right,  after  all,"  she 
said.  "Now  I'll  tell  you  what  we'll  do :  we'll  go  to 
one  more  place,  and  if  it's  a  nice  lady,  we'll  ask 
her  what  she  thinks  about  it,  for  I'd  like  the  advice 
of  a  grown-up." 

This  seemed  a  fair  proposition,  and  the  three 
wandered  in  at  the  very  place  where  they  had  been 
sitting  on  the  stone. 

With  renewed  courage,  they  rang  the  door  bell. 
It  was  Marjorie's  turn  to  speak,  and  the  words 
were  on  the  tip  of  her  tongue.  Being  somewhat 
excited,  she  began  her  speech  as  the  door  began 
to  open. 

"Don't  you  want  to  buy  some  pennyroyal  ex- 
tract?" she  said  rapidly;  "it's  perfectly  fine  for 
mosquitoes,  measles,  and  burns,  and  scarlet  fever! 
It  isn't  worth  a  cent  a  quart,  but  we  sell  it  for 
fifty  cents  a  bottle,  if  you  give  the  bottles  back. 
But  if  you  don't  think  it's  right  for  us  to  sell 
it,  we  won't." 

Marjorie  would  not  have  been  quite  so  mixed  up 
in  her  speech  but  for  the  fact  that  after  she  was 
fairly  started  upon  it.  she  raised  her  eyes  to  the 


WELCOME  GIFTS  245 

person  she  was  addressing,  and  instead  of  a  kind 
and  sweet-faced  lady  she  beheld  a  very  large, 
burly,  and  red-faced  gentleman. 

Not  wishing  to  appear  embarrassed,  she  floun- 
dered on  with  her  speech,  though  in  reality  she 
hardly  knew  what  she  was  saying. 

"Well,  upon  my  soul!"  exclaimed  the  red-faced 
gentleman,  in  a  loud,  deep  voice,  "here's  a  pretty 
kettle  of  fish.  Young  ladies  peddling  extract  at 
decent  people's  houses !"  He  glared  at  the  girls 
with  a  ferocious  expression,  and  then  went  on,  in 
even  louder  tones:  "What  do  you  mean  by  such 
doings?  Have  you  a  license?  Don't  you  know 
that  people  who  sell  goods  without  a  license  must 
be  arrested  ?  I've  a  notion  to  clap  every  one  of  you 
in  jail!" 

As  might  have  been  expected,  Stella  began  to 
cry,  while  Midge  and  Molly  gazed  at  the  red-faced 
old  man  as  if  fascinated.  They  wanted  to  run 
away,  but  something  in  his  look  held  them  there; 
and,  anyway,  they  couldn't  go  and  leave  Stella, 
who  had  dropped  in  a  little  heap  on  the  floor  of 
the  piazza  and  hidden  her  face  in  her  arms, 


246  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

while  convulsive  sobs  shook  her  slender  little 
frame. 

At  sight  of  Stella's  tears,  a  sudden  and  wonder- 
ful change  seemed  to  come  over  the  old  gentleman. 
His  ferocious  expression  gave  way  to  an  anxious 
smile,  and,  stooping,  he  picked  Stella  up  in  his 
arms,  saying :  "There,  there,  baby  !  don't  be  fright- 
ened; that  was  only  my  joking.  Why,  bless  your 
heart,  I  wasn't  a  mite  in  earnest.  There,  there, 
now,  don't  cry;  I'll  buy  all  your  extract, — every 
single  drop, — and  pay  any  price  you  want;  and 
I'll  give  you  back  all  the  bottles,  and  all  the 
baskets,  and  all  the  extract,  too,  if  you  want  it, 
and  some  lovely  peaches  into  the  bargain !  There, 
brace  up  now,  and  forgive  your  old  Uncle  Bill  for 
teasing  you  so !  Jail,  indeed !  I'll  take  you  into 
the  house  instead,  and  find  some  plum-cake  for 
you !" 

Carrying  Stella  in  his  big,  strong  arms,  the 
strange  old  gentleman  ushered  Midge  and  Molly 
into  the  house  and  made  straight  for  the  dining- 
room. 

"Folks  all  gone  away,"  he  went  on,  still  in  his 


WELCOME  GIFTS  247 

gruff,  deep  tones,  but  somehow  they  now  sounded 
very  kind ;  "gone  away  for  an  all-day  picnic,  and 
left  me  alone  to  shift  for  myself.  Jolly  glad 
to  have  company — jolly  glad  to  entertain  you. 
Here's  peaches,  here's  cake.  Have  a  glass  of 
milk?" 

The  old  man  bustled  around  and  seemed  so 
anxious  to  dispel  the  unpleasant  impression  he  had 
made  at  first  that  Molly  and  Midge  met  him  half- 
way, and  beamed  happily  as  they  accepted  the 
pleasant  refreshments  he  set  out. 

"Fall  to,  fail  to,"  he  said,  rubbing  his  big  hands 
together,  as  he  watched  the  children  do  justice 
to  the  feast. 

The  girls  suddenly  discovered  that  they  were 
both  tired  and  hungry,  and  the  old  gentleman's 
hospitality  put  them  in  a  much  pleasanter  frame 
of  mind. 

"Now,  what's  all  this  about  pineapple  extract?" 
he  inquired.  "I  didn't  half  get  the  hang  of  it,  and 
I  was  only  joking  you  when  you  all  seemed  to 
get  scared  to  death." 

So  Marjorie  told  him  the  whole  story  from  the 


248  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

beginning  and  asked  his  opinion  as  to  the  wisdom 
of  the  plan. 

The  old  man's  eyes  twinkled.  "I've  nothing  to 
say  about  that,"  he  replied,  "but  I'll  tell  you  what 
I'll  do:  I'll  buy  your  whole  stock  of  pennyroyal 
tea, — or  whatever  it  is, — and  I'll  pay  you  ten 
dollars  for  the  lot.  It  isn't  a  question  of  what 
the  stuff  is  worth  in  itself,  but  a  question  of  its 
value  to  me ;  and  I'll  rate  that  at  ten  dollars,  and 
here's  your  money.  You  can  spend  it  yourselves, 
or  give  it  to  your  poor  people,  whichever  you  like." 

"Of  course  we'll  give  it  to  the  Dunns,"  declared 
Marjorie,  "that  is,  if  we  take  it,  but  I'm  not  sure 
that  we  ought  to  take  it." 

"Go  'long,"  cried  the  old  man;  "take  it?  Of 
course  you'll  take  it !  and  give  those  children  a 
feast  or  something.  I  know  you,  little  Miss  Curly 
Head,  you're  Steve  Sherwood's  niece,  aren't  you?" 

"Yes,"  said  Marjorie;  "do  you  know  Uncle 
Steve?" 

"Know  him?  I  should  say  I  did !  You  just  tell 
your  Uncle  Steve  that  old  Bill  Wallingford  wanted 
to  make  a  contribution  to  charity  and  he  took  this 


WELCOME  GIFTS  249 

way!  Now,  little  ladies,  if  you  think  you've 
enough  for  one  day,  nothing  will  give  me 
greater  pleasure  than  to  hitch  up  and  take  you 
home." 

The  girls  were  glad  to  accept  this  invitation,  for 
they  had  walked  nearly  three  miles  in  all,  with  their 
heavy  baskets;  and  much  of  the  time  with  heavy 
hearts,  which  are  a  great  hindrance  to  pedes- 
trians. 

So  old  Uncle  Bill,  as  he  instructed  the  children 
to  call  him,  harnessed  a  pair  of  horses  and  drove 
the  three  young  business  women  back  to  their  re- 
spective homes. 

"Well,  Marjorie  Maynard,  where  have  you 
been?"  exclaimed  Grandma,  as  Midge  made  her 
appearance. 

And,  then,  without  further  delay,  Marjorie  told 
the  whole  story. 

Uncle  Steve  lay  back  in  his  chair  and  roared 
with  laughter,  but  Grandma  Sherwood  was  not 
entirely  amused. 

"What  will  you  do  next,  Marjorie?"  she  cried. 
"Didn't  you  know,  child,  that  it  is  not  becoming 


250  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

for  a  Maynard  to  go  around  the  streets  peddling 
things?" 

"Why  not,  Grandma?"  asked  Marjorie,  to  whom 
it  had  never  occurred  there  could  be  any  objection 
to  the  occupation.  Her  only  doubt  had  been  as 
to  the  price  they  ought  to  ask  for  their  goods. 

"I'm  not  sure  that  I  can  make  you  understand," 
said  Grandma,  "and  it  isn't  really  necessary  that 
you  should,  at  present.  But  never  again  must  you 
go  out  selling  things  to  strangers." 

"But  we  sold  things  for  the  Dunns  at  the 
bazaar,"  argued  Marjorie. 

"You  can't  understand  the  difference,  my  dear, 
so  don't  try.  Just  obey  Grandma  and  don't  ever 
undertake  such  a  big  enterprise  as  that  without 
asking  me  beforehand.  Why,  I'm  ashamed  that 
you  should  have  gone  to  the  Clarkes'  and  the  Fos- 
ters' and  the  Eliots'  on  such  an  errand!  Really, 
Marjorie,  you  ought  to  have  known  better." 

"But,  Grandma,  I  thought  you  would  be  pleased, 
and  it  would  make  you  a  happy  surprise." 

"I  am  surprised,  but  not  at  all  pleased.  However, 
Mopsy,  it  wasn't  wilful  wrong  on  your  part ;  it  was 


WELCOME  GIFTS  251 

only  one  of  those  absurd  mistakes  that  you  seem 
to  be  continually  making." 

"You  showed  a  pretty  good  business  instinct, 
Midget,"  said  her  uncle;  "if  you  were  a  boy  I'd 
expect  you  to  grow  up  to  be  one  of  the  Kings  of 
Finance.  But,  after  this,  when  you're  inclined  to 
start  a  large  business  enterprise,  invite  me  to  go 
in  with  you  as  partner." 

"I  will,  Uncle  Steve;  but,  anyway,  we  have  ten 
dollars  and  seventy-five  cents  from  our  extract,  and 
I  don't  think  that's  so  bad." 

"Indeed,  it  isn't,"  said  Uncle  Steve,  his  eyes 
twinkling;  "whoever  can  get  money  for  charity 
out  of  old  Bill  Wallingford  is,  indeed,  pretty 
clever!  I  think,  Grandma,  that  since  Midge  has 
earned  this  herself,  she  and  the  other  girls  ought 
to  have  the  pleasure  of  spending  it  for  the  Dunns, 
in  any  way  they  choose." 

Grandma  agreed  with  Uncle  Steve  in  this  mat- 
ter, and  the  result  was  that  the  next  day  he  took 
the  three  girls  to  town  to  spend  their  hard-earned 
money. 

It  was  always  fun  to  go  anywhere  with  Uncle 


2£2  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

Steve,  and  this  occasion  was  a  particularly  joyful 
one,  for  it  combined  the  elements  of  a  charitable 
excursion  and  a  holiday  beside. 

They  drove  first  to  a  large  shop,  where  they 
bought  some  clothes  for  the  Dunns. 

The  girls  thought  that  a  few  pretty  garments, 
as  well  as  useful  ones,  would  be  the  nicest  way  to 
use  their  money.  So  they  bought  pretty  straw 
hats  and  cambric  dresses  for  the  children,  and  a 
blue  worsted  shawl  for  Mrs.  Dunn,  and  a  little 
white  cap  for  the  baby. 

"I  don't  suppose  these  things  are  so  awful  neces- 
sary," Midget  confided  to  Uncle  Steve,  "but  it 
will  be  such  fun  to  see  how  glad  they'll  be  to  get 
them." 

Molly,  who  was  more  practical,  advised  some 
aprons  and  shoes  and  stockings,  while  Stella's 
preference  was  for  toys. 

"They  don't  need  so  many  clothes  in  summer 
time,"  she  said,  "and  something  to  amuse  them 
will  make  them  forget  how  hot  it  is." 

It  was  wonderful  how  long  that  ten  dollars 
lasted,  and  how  many  things  it  bought!  Mar- 


WELCOME  GIFTS  253 

jorie  lost  count  of  their  expenditures,  but  every 
time  she  asked  Uncle  Steve  if  there  was  any  money 
left,  he  answered,  "Oh,  yes,  quite  a  bit  more,"  and 
so  they  bought  and  bought,  until  the  carriage  was 
overflowing  with  bundles. 

At  last,  Mar  jorie  said:  "Now,  I'm  sure  the 
money  is  all  gone,  and  I  do  believe,  Uncle  Steve, 
you've  been  adding  some  to  it ;  but  there  are  two 
more  things  I  do  want  to  buy  most  awfully — and 
they're  both  pink." 

"I'd  hate  to  have  two  pink  things  left  out,"  de- 
clared Uncle  Steve,  "and  I'm  sure  there's  just 
money  enough  left  for  the  two.  What  are  they, 
Mopsy?" 

"Well,  one  is  a  pink  parasol  for  that  Elegant 

Ella.     Not  a  silk  one,  you  know,  Uncle,  but  a 

N  sateen  one,  with  a  little  ruffle  around  it,  and  a 

white  handle.    She'd  be  so  delighted,  she'd  just  go 

crazy !" 

"Let's    send    her    crazy,    then,   by    all   means. 
Where  do  you  purchase  these  sateen  affairs  ?" 

"Oh,  at  any  dry-goods  shop.     We'll  pick  one 
out." 


254  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

Into  a  large  department  store  the  girls  went, 
and  soon  found  a  parasol,  which,  though  inex- 
pensive, was  as  dainty  and  pretty  as  the  higher- 
priced  silk  ones.  They  already  had  a  gayly- 
dressed  doll  for  Hoopy  Topsy,  and  toys  for  the 
little  children. 

"Now,  what's  the  other  pink  thing,  Midget?" 
asked  Uncle  Steve,  as  they  all  piled  into  the  car- 
riage again. 

"Don't  laugh,  Uncle,  but  you  see,  it's  such  an 
awfully  hot  day  and  I  really  think  it  would  comfort 
them  to  have " 

"A  pink  fan  apiece,  all  'round?" 

"No,  Uncle,  not  that  at  all;  something  much 
cooler  than  that.  A  can  of  pink  ice  cream !" 

"Just  the  thing,  Mops !  How  did  you  ever 
come  to  think  of  it?  We'll  take  it  right  along 
with  us,  and  after  we've  bestowed  all  this  load 
of  luggage  on  the  unsuspecting  Dunns,  we'll  come 
back  here  and  get  another  can  of  ice  cream  for 
ourselves;  and  we'll  take  it  home  to  a  nice,  little 
green  porch  I  know  of,  and  there  we'll  all  rest 
aft^y  our  labors,  and  regale  ourselves." 


WELCOME  GIFTS  255 

This  plan  met  with  great  favor  in  the  eyes  of 
the  three  young  people  most  concerned,  and  Uncle 
Steve  drove  to  the  caterer's,  where  he  bought  a 
good-sized  can  of  the  cold  comfort  to  add  to  their 
charitable  load. 

And  maybe  the  Dunns  weren't  pleased  with  their 

gifts !  ' 

The  tears  stood  in  Mrs.  Dunn's  eyes  as  she 
thanked  Marjorie  and  the  other  girls  over  and 
over  for  their  thoughtful  kindness.  The  Dunns 
were  often  accounted  shiftless,  but  the  poor  woman 
found  it  difficult  to  take  care  of  her  growing 
family  and  by  her  industry  provide  for  their 
support. 

Nor  had  she  much  help  from  the  oldest  daughter. 
The  Elegant  Ella  was,  by  nature,  self-centred  and 
vain;  and  though  a  good-natured  little  girl,  she 
was  not  very  dependable  in  the  household. 

But  she  was  enormously  pleased  with  her  pink 
parasol,  and  after  enthusiastic  thanks  to  the 
donors,  she  raised  it,  and  holding  it  over  her  head 
at  a  coquettish  angle,  she  walked  away  to  a  broken- 
down  rustic  seat  under  a  tree,  and,  posing  herself 


256  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

in  what  she  felt  sure  was  a  graceful  attitude,  pro- 
ceeded to  sit  there  and  enjoy  her  welcome  gift. 

But  when,  last  of  all,  the  can  of  ice  cream  was 
presented,  the  joy  of  the  Dunn  children  found  vo- 
ciferous expression.  Hoopsy  Topsy  turned  somer- 
saults to  show  her  delight,  while  Dibbs  yelled  for 
very  glee.  Carefully  putting  down  her  parasol, 
and  laying  it  aside,  the  Elegant  Ella  sauntered 
over  to  where  the  family  were  gathered  round  the 
wonderful  can.  "Don't  be  in  such  haste,"  she  said, 
reprovingly,  to  the  boisterous  children,  "sit  down 
quietly,  and  I  will  arrange  that  the  ice  cream  shall 
be  served  properly." 

This  was  too  much  for  the  amused  observers  in 
the  carriage,  and,  picking  up  the  reins,  Uncle 
Steve,  with  a  hasty  good-by,  drove  away. 

The  girls  leaned  out  of  the  carriage  to  get  a 
last  glimpse  of  the  Elegant  Ella,  and  saw  her  still 
trying  to  quell  the  noisy  impatience  of  the  smaller 
children,  but  apparently  with  little  success. 

"Now  our  duty's  done,  and  well  done,"  said 
Uncle  Steve,  gayly;  "and  now  we'll  go  for  our 
justly-earned  reward.  You  chickadees  may  each 


WELCOME  GIFTS  257 

select  your  favorite  flavor  of  ice  cream  and  then 
we'll  get  a  goodly  portion  of  each,  with  a  fair 
share  thrown  in  for  Grandma  and  myself." 

The  result  was  a  very  large-sized  wooden  tub, 
which  they  managed  to  stow  away  in  the  carriage 
somehow,  and  then  they  drove  rapidly  homeward 
that  they  might  enjoy  their  little  feast  in 
j one's  porch. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

THE    OLD    WELL 

DURING  August  the  weather  became  excessively 
hot.  Grandma  Sherwood  managed  to  keep  the 
house  cool  by  careful  adjustment  of  awnings, 
blinds,  and  screens,  but  out-of-doors  it  was  stifling. 

Midge  and  Molly  did  not  mind  the  heat  much, 
and  played  out  of  doors  all  day,  but  Stella  wilted 
under  the  sun's  direct  rays,  and  usually  her  mother 
kept  her  indoors  until  the  late  afternoon. 

But  one  day  the  intense  heat  became  almost  too 
much  even  for  the  other  two  little  girls.  They  had 
been  romping  in  the  barn,  and  finally  sat  down  in 
the  hay,  very  red-faced  and  warm. 

"What  can  we  do,"  said  Molly,  "to  get  cooler?" 

"Let's  go  down  by  the  river,"  said  Marjorie; 
"it  must  be  cooler  by  the  water." 

"Not  a  bit  of  it.     The  sun's  too  bright  down 
there.     Let's  walk  in  the  woods." 
258 


THE  OLD  WELL  259 

"The  woods  are  so  hot ;  there  isn't  a  bit  of  breeze 
in  there." 

In  sheer  idleness  of  spirit  the  girls  got  up  and 
wandered  aimlessly  about.  Going  down  through 
the  garden  and  across  the  chicken-yard,  they 
paused  a  moment  by  the  old  well  to  get  a 
drink. 

As  they  turned  the  windlass  and  drew  up  a  full 
bucket  of  water,  while  the  empty  one  went  down, 
Molly  was  seized  with  an  inspiration. 

"Mopsy  Midget !"  she  exclaimed.  "I'll  tell  you 
the  very  thing!  Let's  go  down  the  well,  and  get 
cooled  off !" 

"How  can  we?"  said  Marjorie,  who  was  quite 
ready  to  go,  but  couldn't  see  her  way  clear  as  to 
the  means  of  transportation. 

"Why,  as  easy  as  anything!  You  go  down  in 
one  bucket,  and  I'll  go  down  in  the  other." 

"We  can't  get  in  these  buckets." 

"Of  course  not,  goosey ;  but  we  can  get  our 
feet  in,  and  then  stand  up,  and  hold  on  by  the 
chain." 

"We   can't  get   our   feet   in   flat,   the  buckets 


260  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

aren't  wide  enough."  As  she  spoke,  Marjorie 
stood  on  one  foot  and  examined  the  sole  of  her 
other  shoe,  which  was  certainly  longer  than  the 
diameter  of  the  bucket. 

"Oh,  don't  fuss  so!  We  can  stand  on  our  toes 
a  little  bit.  Come  on — I'll  go  first." 

"All  right,"  and  Marjorie  began  to  enter  into 
the  spirit  of  the  thing ;  "there  can't  be  any  danger, 
because  Carter  said  the  water  was  low  in  the 
well." 

"Yes,  all  the  wells  are  low  just  now — it's  such 
dry  weather.  But,  anyway,  we  won't  go  down  as 
far  as  the  water.  Now  listen:  I'll  get  in  this 
bucket  and  start  down.  You  pull  the  other  one 
up,  and  when  you  get  it  up  here,  pour  out  the 
water  and  get  in  yourself,  and  then  come  on  down. 
But  don't  let  my  bucket  go  all  the  way  down,  be- 
cause I  don't  want  to  go  into  the  water.  Put  a 
stick  through  the  chain  when  I  holler  up  for  you 
to  do  so." 

"All  right;  hop  in,  it  will  be  lots  of  fun,  and 
we'll  surely  get  cooled  off." 

So,  while  the  bucket  stood  on  the  flat  stones  of 


THE  OLD  WELL  261 

the  well-curb,  Molly  stepped  in   and  wound  her 
thin  little  arms  around  the  chain. 

"Push  me  off,"  she  said  to  Marjorie,  "and  hang 
on  to  the  other  side  of  the  chain  so  I  won't  go  too 
fast." 

"Yes,  but  who's  going  to  push  me  off  when  I  go 
down?" 

"Oh,  you  can  wriggle  yourself  off.  Here,  don't 
push  me,  I'll  push  off  myself  and  show  you 
how." 

Grasping  the  other  chain  and  partly  supporting . 
herself  by  that  means,  Molly,  with  her  feet  in  the 
bucket,  wriggled  and  pushed  until  the  bucket  went 
off  the  edge  of  the  curb  and  began  to  slide  down 
the  well.  The  other  bucket  came  up  from  under 
the  water  with  a  splash,  and  as  both  girls  held 
the  upcoming  chain,  Molly  did  not  go  down  too 
fast. 

"It's  great !"  she  exclaimed,  as  she  went  slowly 
down.  "It's  perfectly  lovely!  It's  as  cold  as  an 
ice-box  and  the  stones  are  all  green  and  mossy. 
Look  out  now,  Mops,  I'm  coming  to  the  other 
bucket." 


262  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

The  two  buckets  bumped  together,  and  Molly 
grabbed  at  the  other  one  as  it  passed. 

"Now,  look  out,  Mopsy,"  she  said,  "I'm  going 
to  let  go  of  this  other  bucket  and  then  I'll  only 
have  my  own  chain  to  hang  on  to,  so  you  manage 
it  right  and  stick  the  stick  through  the  chain 
when  I  tell  you  to."  * 

The  plan  worked  pretty  well,  except  that  it 
was  not  easy  for  Marjorie  to  keep  the  water- 
filled  bucket  back  to  balance  Molly's  weight.  It 
required  all  her  strength  to  pull  on  the  upcoming 
chain,  and  she  was  glad,  indeed,  when  Molly  told 
her  to  push  the  stick  in. 

A  stout  stick  pushed  through  a  link  of  chain 
held  the  windlass  firmly,  and  as  Marjorie  lifted  the 
bucket  full  of  water  up  on  to  the  curb,  rash  little 
Molly  swung  daringly  deep  in  the  well  below. 

"It's  awfully  queer,"  she  called  up,  "and  I  don't 
like  it  very  much  so  low  down.  Gracious,  Mar- 
jorie, you  spilled  that  water  all  over  me!" 

For  Marjorie  had  thoughtlessly  emptied  the 
water  from  the  bucket  back  into  the  well  instead 
of  pouring  it  out  on  the  ground,  and  though 


THE  OLD  WELL  263 

Molly's  bucket  swung  to  one  side  of  the  well,  yet 
the  child  was  pretty  well  splashed  with  the  falling 
water. 

But  undaunted  by  trifles  of  that  sort,  Molly 
proceeded  gayly  to  give  her  orders.  "Now, 
Midget,"  she  went  on,  "if  your  bucket's  empty, 
set  it  near  the  edge,  and  get  in  and  come  on  down." 

Though  not  as  absolutely  reckless  as  Molly, 
Midget  was  daring  enough,  and,  placing  the 
empty  bucket  on  the  very  edge  of  the  curb,  she 
put  her  feet  in,  and,  standing  on  her  toes  with 
her  heels  against  the  side  of  the  bucket,  she  wound 
her  arms  about  the  chain  as  Molly  had  done,  and 
twisted  about  until  the  bucket  fell  off  the  edge. 

Had  the  girls  been  more  nearly  of  equal  weight, 
their  plan  would  have  worked  better ;  but  as  Mar- 
jorie  was  so  much  heavier  than  Molly,  the  laws  of 
gravitation  claimed  her,  and  she  went  swiftly 
down. 

The  instant  that  she  started,  Molly  realized 
this,  and  her  quick  wits  told  her  that,  unless 
stopped,  Marjorie's  bucket  would  dive  deep  into 
the  water. 


264  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

It  was  a  critical  situation,  and  had  it  not  been 
for  Molly's  presence  of  mind  a  tragedy  might 
have  resulted.  As  it  was,  she  bravely  grasped 
at  Marjorie  as  she  passed  her;  and  with  a  sudden 
bump,  as  the  two  buckets  hit  together  and  then 
fell  apart,  Molly  clutched  at  Marjorie,  and  the 
buckets  paused  side  by  side,  while  the  girls  shivered 
and  shook,  partly  with  fear  and  partly  with  fun. 

"What  are  we  going  to  do?"  said  Molly.  "If 
I  let  go  of  you,  you'll  go  smash  into  the  water, 
and  I'll  fly  up  to  the  top!" 

"Keep  hold  of  me,  then,"  replied  Midget,  who 
had  a  wonderful  power  of  adapting  her;- elf  to  a 
situation. 

And  so  the  two  girls,  each  with  one  hand  grasp- 
ing a  bucket  chain  and  their  other  hands  tightly 
clasped,  stood  face  to  face  half-way  down  the  old 
well. 

"I  don't  think  this  is  sucli  an  awfully  nice 
place,"  said  Marjorie,  looking  round  at  the  slimy 
green  walls  which  shone  wet  in  the  semi-darkness. 

"Well,  it's  cool,"  retorted  Molly,  who  was  shiver- 
ing in  her  wet  clothing. 


THE  OLD  WELL  265 

"Of  course  it's  cool,  but  my  feet  ache,  standing 
on  my  toes  so  long.  I  wonder  if  I  couldn't  sit 
down  on  the  side  of  the  bucket." 

"Don't  try!"  exclaimed  Molly,  in  alarm. 
"You'll  keel  over  and  upset  us  both  into  the 
water !" 

"You  said  the  water  wasn't  deep ;  perhaps  it's 
only  up  to  our  knees ;  that  wouldn't  hurt  us." 

"Yes,  and  perhaps  it's  over  our  heads !  I  don't 
know  how  deep  it  is,  I'm  sure;  but  I  must  say  it 
looks  deep." 

The  girls  peered  downward  and  saw  only  a 
black,  shining  surface,  with  a  shadowy  reflection 
of  themselves. 

"Well,  I've  had  enough  of  it,"  said  Marjorie; 
"now,  how  are  we  going  to  get  back  again?" 

"I  don't  know,"  said  Molly,  slowly,  as  if  the 
idea  had  just  occurred  to  her;  "honest,  Marjorie, 
I  don't  know." 

Marjorie  looked  dismayed,  and,  indeed,  so  did 
Molly  herself. 

"You  see,"  Molly  went  on,  feeling  as  if  she  were 
responsible  for  the  situation,  "I  forgot  you're  so 


266  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

much  heavier  than  I  am.  You  know  the  two 
buckets  balance  each  other." 

"Not  when  one  is  full  and  one  is  empty." 

"No;  but  then  there  is  somebody  at  the  top  to 
pull  them  up.  If  Carter  or  anybody  was  up  there, 
he  could  pull  one  of  us  up." 

"Yes,  and  let  the  other  one  go  down  in  the 
water !" 

"No ;  when  one  of  us  was  nearly  up,  he  could  put 
the  stick  in  the  chain,  like  you  did." 

"Well,  Carter  isn't  up  there ;  I  wish  he  was.  We 
might  scream  for  him,  but,  of  course,  he  couldn't 
hear  us  from  way  down  here." 

"Let's  try,  anyway." 

Both  the  girls  screamed  with  all  their  might, 
separately  and%  together,  but  they  soon  realized 
that  their  muffled  voices  scarcely  reached  the  top 
of  the  well,  let  alone  sounding  across  the  fields  to 
Carter. 

"This  is  mischief,  for  sure,"  said  Marjorie; 
"and  Grandma  won't  like  it  a  bit.  I  promised  her 

faithfully  I  would  try  to  keep  out  of  mischief." 

» 

The  little  girl's  face  was  very  troubled,  for  she  had 


THE  OLD  WELL  267 

truly  meant  to  be  good  and  not  indulge  in  naughty 
pranks. 

"You  didn't  mean  it  for  mischief,"  said  Molly, 
consolingly;  "I'm  sure  /  didn't." 

"Of  course  I  didn't;  but  somehow  I  never  seem 
to  know  what  is  mischief  until  I  get  into  it.  But, 
oh,  Molly,  I  can't  stand  on  my  toes  any  longer. 
If  my  feet  were  a  little  shorter,  or  the  bucket  a 
little  wider,  I  could  stand  down  flat." 

"I  don't  seem  to  mind  tiptoeing,"  said  Molly; 
"can't  you  take  off  your  shoes?  Then,  perhaps, 
you  could  stand  flat." 

"Perhaps  I  could,"  said  Marjorie,  doubtfully, 
"but  I  know  I'll  upset  doing  it." 

But  with  Molly's  help,  and  both  holding  care- 
fully by  the  chains,  Marjorie  managed  to  get  her 
shoes  off,  and  tied  them  to  the  handle  of  the  bucket 
by  their  strings. 

"Well,  that's  a  comfort,"  she  exclaimed,  as 
she  stood  firmly  on  the  soles  of  her  stockinged 
feet. 

But  as  the  minutes  passed  away,  the  girls  rap- 
idly became  aware  of  the  discomforts  of  their  posi- 


268  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

tion.  Their  hands  became  bruised  with  the  chains, 
their  bodies  grew  stiff  and  cramped,  and  the  damp, 
cold  atmosphere  seemed  almost  to  stop  the  blood 
in  their  veins. 

The  two  little  white  faces  looked  at  each  other  in 
the  glimmering  twilight  of  the  well,  and  all  the  fun 
faded  out  of  the  escapade,  and  despair  gradually 
crept  over  them. 

Two  big  tears  rolled  down  Marjorie's  cheeks 
as  she  said : 

"I'm  not  going  to  cry,  Molly,  because  there's 
no  use  of  it;  but,  oh,  Molly,  what  are  we  going 
to  do?" 

"I  don't  know,  Mops.  There  isn't  a  thing  to  do 
but  to  stay  here  until  Carter  or  somebody  happens 
to  come  to  draw  water.  You  won't  faint  or  any- 
thing, will  you?" 

"I  don't  know,"  said  Marjorie,  almost  smiling  at 
Molly's  alarmed  expression ;  "I  don't  believe  I  will, 
because  I  don't  know  how  to  faint.  If  I  knew 
how  I  s'pose  I  would,  for  I  don't  think  I  can  stay 
like  this  much  longer." 

Marjorie's  head  began  to  sway  back  and  forth, 


THE  OLD  WELL  269 

and  Molly,  thoroughly  frightened,  seized  her  by 
the  shoulder  and  shook  her  vigorously. 

"Marjorie  Maynard!"  she  exclaimed.  "If  you 
faint  and  tumble  out  of  this  bucket,  I'll  never 
speak  to  you  again  as  long  as  I  live!" 

Her  excited  tones  roused  Marjorie  from  the 
faintness  that  was  beginning  to  steal  over  her. 

"I  don't  want  to  fall  into  the  water,"  she  said, 
shuddering. 

"Well,  then,  brace  up  and  behave  yourself! 
Stand  up  straight  in  your  bucket  and  hang  on  to 
the  chains.  Don't  look  down ;  that  was  what  made 
you  feel  faint.  We're  here  and  we  must  make 
the  best  of  it.  We  can't  get  out  until  somebody 
comes,  so  let's  be  plucky  and  do  the  best  we 
can." 

"Pooh !  Molly  Moss !  I  guess  I  can  be  as  brave 
as  you  can !  I'm  not  going  to  faint,  or  tumble 
into  the  water,  or  do  anything  silly !  Now  that 
I  don't  have  to  stand  on  tiptoe,  I  could  stand  here 
all  day, — and  Carter's  bound  to  come  for  water 
for  the  cows." 

Then  what  did  those  two  ridiculous  girls  dc. 


270  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

but  bravely  try  to  outdo  each  other  in  their  exhi- 
bition of  pluck! 

Neither  complained  again  of  weariness  or 
cramped  muscles,  and  finally  Marjorie  proposed 
that  they  tell  each  other  stories  to  make  the  time 
pass  pleasantly.  The  stories  were  not  very  inter- 
esting affairs,  for  both  speaker  and  listener  were 
really  suffering  from  pain  and  chill. 

At  last  Molly  said:  "Suppose  we  scream  some 
more.  If  Carter  should  be  passing  by,  you  know, 
he  might  hear  us." 

Marjorie  was  quite  willing  to  a^opt  this  plan, 
and  after  that  they  screamed  at  intervals  on  the 
chance  of  being  heard. 

Two  mortal  hours  the  girls  hung  in  the  well 
before  help  came,  and  then  Carter,  passing  near 
the  well,  heard  what  seemed  to  him  like  a  faint  and 
muffled  cry. 

Scarcely  thinking  it  could  be  the  children,  he 
paused  and  listened. 

Again  he  heard  a  vague  sound,  which  seemed  as 
if  it  might  be  his  own  name  called  in  despairing 
tones. 


THE  OLD  WELL  271 

Guided  more  by  instinct  than  reason,  he  went 
and  looked  over  the  well-curb,  and  was  greeted  with 
two  jubilant  voices,  which  called  up  to  him: 

"Oh,  Carter,  Carter,  pull  us  up!  We're  down 
the  well,  and  we're  nearly  dead !" 

"Oh,  my !  oh,  my !"  groaned  Carter.  "Are  ye 
drowned?" 


CHAPTER  XX 

AN  EVENTFUL  DAY 

"NoT  a  bit,"  chirped  Midget,  who  was  determined 
to  be  plucky  to  the  last;  "we  just  came  down  here 
to  get  cooled  off,  and  somehow  we  can't  get  up.'* 

"Well,  if  ye  aren't  a  team  of  Terrors !"  ex- 
claimed the  exasperated  Carter.  "I've  a  good 
mind  to  let  ye  stay  down  there  and  get  cooled 
off!" 

Carter  was  really  frightened,  but  Marjorie's 
voice  was  so  reassuring  that  his  mood  turned  to 
anger  at  the  children's  foolishness.  As  he  looked 
into  the  situation,  however,  and  saw  the  girls  clasp- 
ing each  other  as  they  hung  half-way  down  the 
well,  his  alarm  returned. 

"How  can  I  get  ye  up,  ye  bad  babies !  Which- 
ever one  I  pull  up,  the  other  one  must  go  down 
and  drown !" 

372 


AN  EVENTFUL  DAY  273 

The  reaction  was  beginning  to  tell  upon  Molly, 
and  her  bravery  was  oozing  out  at  her  finger- 
ends. 

"Let  me  down,"  she  wailed,  brokenly ;  "it  was  all 
my  fault.  Save  Marjorie  and  let  me  go !" 

"No,  indeed,"  cried  Marjorie,  gripping  Molly 
closer;  "I'm  the  heaviest.  Let  me  go  down  and 
pull  Molly  up,  Carter." 

"Quit  your  nonsense,  Miss  Midget,  and  let  me 
think  a  minute.  For  the  life  of  me  I  don't  know 
how  to  get  ye  out  of  this  scrape,  but  I  must  man- 
age it  somehow." 

"It's  easy  enough,  Carter,"  cried  Marjorie, 
whose  gayety  had  returned  now  that  a  rescue 
seemed  probable.  "You  pull  me  up  first  and  let 
Molly  go  down,  but  not  as  far  as  the  water, — 
and  when  I  get  nearly  up,  there's  a  stick  through 
the  chain  that  will  stop  me.  Then  I'll  get  out, 
and  you  can  pull  Molly  up  after." 

But  Molly's  nerve  was  almost  gone.  "Don't 
leave  me,"  she  cried,  clutching  frantically  at 
Midge.  "Don't  send  me  down  alone,  I'm  so  fright- 
ened!" 


274  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

"But,  Molly  dear,  it's  the  only  way  !  I'd  just  as 
leave  let  you  go  up  first,  but  I'm  so  heavy  I'd 
drop  ker-splash!  and  you'd  go  flying  up!"  But 
Molly  wouldn't  agree  to  go  down,  and  she  began 
to  cry  hysterically.  So  Carter  settled  the  ques- 
tion. 

"It's  no  use,  Miss  Midget,"  he  called  down,  in  a 
stern  voice,  "to  try  to  send  Miss  Molly  down.  She's 
in  no  state  to  take  care  of  herself,  and  you  are. 
Now  be  a  brave  little  lady  and  obey  my  word  and 
I'll  save  you  both;  but  if  you  don't  mind  me  ex- 
actly, ye'll  be  drowned  for  sure!" 

Marjorie  was  pretty  well  scared  at  Molly's  col- 
lapse, and  she  agreed  to  do  whatever  Carter  com- 
manded. 

"All  right,  then,"  said  Carter.  "Do  you  two 
let  go  of  each  other  and  each  hang  tightly  to  her 
own  chain,  and  push  your  buckets  apart  as  far  as 
you  can,  but  don't  hit  the  sides  of  the  well." 

Somewhat  inspirited  at  the  thought  of  rescue, 
Molly  took  a  firm  hold  of  her  chain  and  pushed 
herself  loose  from  Marjorie.  Marjorie  had  faith 
in  Carter's  promises,  but  she  felt  a  sinking  at  her 


AN  EVENTFUL  DAY  275 

heart  as  she  began  to  descend  the  dark  well  and 
came  nearer  and  nearer  to  the  black  water. 

With  great  care,  Carter  drew  up  the  bucketful 
of  Molly,  and  when  Midge's  bucket  was  still  at  a 
safe  distance  above  the  water,  he  stayed  the  chain 
with  a  stick,  and  pulled  Molly  the  rest  of  the  way 
up  merely  by  his  own  strong  muscles. 

He  safely  landed  the  bucket  on  the  curb,  and 
picking  the  exhausted  child  out,  laid  her  on  the 
grass,  without  a  word. 

He  then  went  back  to  the  well  and  spoke  very 
decidedly  to  Marjorie. 

"Miss  Midget,"  he  said,  "now  I'll  pull  ye  up, 
but  ye  must  do  your  share  of  helpin'.  When  ye 
reach  the  other  bucket,  shove  it  aside,  that  it 
doesn't  hit  ye.  Stand  straight  and  hold  tight, 
now !" 

Marjorie  did  as  she  was  told,  and,  slowly  but 
steadily,  Carter  pulled  her  up.  At  last  she,  too, 
was  once  again  out  in  the  sunlight,  and  she  and 
Molly  sat  on  the  grass  and  looked  at  each  other, 
uncertain  whether  to  laugh  or  cry. 

"It  was  a  narrow  escape,"  said  Carter,  shaking 


2Y6  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

his  head  at  them,  "and  what  puts  such  wicked  mis- 
chief into  your  heads,  I  don't  know.  But  it's 
not  for  me  to  be  reprovin'  ye.  March  into  the 
house  now,  and  tell  your  Grandma  about  it,  and 
see  what  she  says." 

"I'll  go  in,"  said  Marjorie,  "but  if  you'd  rather, 
Molly,  you  can  go  home.  I'll  tell  Grandma  about 
it,  myself." 

"No,"  said  Molly,  "it  was  my  fault.  I  coaxed 
you  into  it,  and  I'm  going  to  tell  your  grandma 
about  it." 

"I  was  just  as  much  to  blame  as  you,  for  I  did- 
n't have  to  go  down  the  well  just  because  you 
coaxed  me.  But  I'll  be  glad  if  you  will  come  with 
me,  for,  of  course,  we  can  explain  it  better  to- 
gether." 

Hand  in  hand  the  two  culprits  walked  into  the 
room  where  Mrs.  Sherwood  sat  sewing. 

They  were  a  sorry-looking  pair,  indeed !  Their 
pretty  gingham  frocks  were  limp  and  stringy  with 
dampness,  and  soiled  and  stained  from  contact 
with  the  buckets  and  the  moss-grown  sides  of  the 
well. 


AN  EVENTFUL  DAY  277 

Marjorie  had  been  unable  to  get  her  shoes  on 
over  her  damp,  torn  stockings,  and  as  Molly's  head 
had  been  drenched  with  water,  she  presented  a  for- 
lorn appearance. 

Grandma  Sherwood  looked  at  them  with  an  ex- 
pression, not  so  much  of  surprise,  as  amused 
exasperation. 

"I'm  glad  you  weren't  killed,"  she  said,  "but 
you  look  as  if  you  had  come  very  near  it.  What 
have  you  been  up  to  now?" 

"We  haven't  been  up  at  all,  Grandma,"  said 
Marjorie,  cheerfully,  "we've  been  down — in  the 
well." 

"In  the  well!"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Sherwood,  her 
face  blank  with  surprise.  "Marjorie,  what  can 
I  do  with  you?  I  shall  have  to  send  you  home 
before  your  vacation  is  over,  unless  you  stop  get- 
ting into  mischief !  Did  you  fall  down  ?" 

"It  was  my  fault,  Mrs.  Sherwood,"  said  Molly; 
"truly,  I  didn't  mean  mischief,  but  it  was  such 
a  hot  day  and  I  thought  it  would  be  cool  down 
the  well " 

"And  it  was,"  interrupted  Marjorie;  "and  ^e 


278  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

had  a  pretty  good  time, — only  I  was  too  heavy 
and  I  went  down  whizz — zip !  And  Molly  came 
flying  up,  and  if  we  hadn't  caught  each  other,  I 
s'pect  we'd  both  have  been  drowned !" 

Grandma  Sherwood  began  to  realize  that  there 
had  been  not  only  mischief  but  real  danger  in  this 
latest  escapade. 

"Molly,"  she  said,  "you  may  go  home,  and 
tell  your  mother  about  it,  and  I  will  talk  it  over 
with  Marjorie.  I  think  you  were  equally  to  blame, 
for,  though  Molly  proposed  the  plan,  Marjorie 
ought  not  to  have  consented." 

So  Molly  went  home  and  Mrs.  Sherwood  had  a 
long  and  serious  talk  with  her  little  grand- 
daughter. She  did  not  scold, — Grandma  Sher- 
wood never  scolded, — but  she  explained  to  Mar- 
jorie that,  unless  she  curbed  her  impulsive  incli- 
nations to  do  reckless  things,  she  would  certainly 
make  serious  trouble  for  herself  and  her  friends. 

"It  doesn't  matter  at  all,"  she  said,  "who  pro- 
poses the  mischief.  You  do  just  as  wrong  in  con- 
senting to  take  part,  as  if  you  invented  the  plan 
yourself." 


AN  EVENTFUL  DAY  27* 

"But,  Grandma,  truly  I  didn't  see  any  harm  in 
going  down  the  well  to  get  cooled  off.  The  buckets 
are  big  and  the  chains  are  very  strong,  and  I 
thought  we  would  just  go  down  slowly  and  swing 
around  awhile  and  pull  ourselves  up  again." 

"Oh,  Midget,  will  you  never  learn  common- 
sense?  I  know  you're  only  twelve,  but  it  seems 
as  if  you  ought  to  know  better  than  to  'do  such 
absurd  things." 

"It  does  seem  so,  Grandma,  and  I'll  try  to  learn. 
Perhaps  if  you  punish  me  for  this  I'll  grow  better. 
Punishment  'most  always  does  me  good." 
Grandma  Sherwood  suppressed  a  smile. 
"I  always  punish  you,  Midget,  when  you  do 
wrong  through  f orgetf ulness,  because  I  think  pun- 
ishment helps  your  memory.     But  I  don't  think 
you'll  ever  forget  that  you're  not  to  go  down  the 
well  again.     But  next  time  it  will  be  some  other 
dreadful  thing;  something  totally  different,  and 
something  that  it  would  never  occur  to  me  to  warn 
you  against.     However,  I  do  want  you  to  remem- 
ber not  to  do  things  that  endanger  your  life,  so  I 
think  I  shall  punish  you  for  this  morning's  per- 


280  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

formance.  You  may  remain  in  your  own  room  all 
the  afternoon, — at  least,  until  Uncle  Steve  comes 
home." 

Grandma's  command  was  not  so  much  for  the 
sake  of  punishing  Marjorie  as  the  thought  that 
the  child  really  needed  a  quiet  afternoon  of  rest 
after  her  experience  of  the  morning. 

Marjorie  sighed  a  little,  but  accepted  her  fate, 
and  after  dinner  went  to  her  room  to  spend  the 
afternoon.  It  was  not  a  great  hardship,  for  there 
was  plenty  of  entertainment  there,  and  had  it  been 
a  rainy  day,  she  could  have  occupied  herself  hap- 
pily. But  the  knowledge  that  she  was  there  as  a 
punishment  weighed  on  her  mind,  and  depressed 
her  spirits ;  and  she  wandered  idly  about  the  room, 
unable  to  take  an  interest  in  her  books  or  toys. 

Grandma  looked  in  from  time  to  time  and  gave 
her  an  encouraging  smile  and  a  few  words  of  com- 
fort; for,  though  intending  to  be  strict  with 
Midget,  like  all  other  grandmas,  Mrs.  Sherwood 
greatly  preferred  to  be  indulgent. 

After  a  while  Molly  came  over,  and,  as  she 
seemed  so  penitent  and  full  of  remorse,  Mrs. 


AN  EVENTFUL  DAY  281 

Sherwood  told  her  that,  if  she  chose,  she  might  go 
up  to  Marjorie's  room  and  share  her  imprisonment. 
Nothing  loath,  Molly  trotted  upstairs,  and  the 
lonesome  Marjorie  was  glad,  indeed,  to  see  her. 
After  a  short  discussion  of  the  affair  of  the  morn- 
ing, Marjorie  said,  with  her  usual  inclination  to 
keep  away  from  disagreeable  subjects:  "Don't 
let's  talk  about  it  any  more.  Let's  have  some  good 
fun  up  here.  I'm  so  glad  Grandma  let  you 
come  up." 

"All  right,"  said  Molly,  "what  shall  we  do?" 
"Let's  make  paper  dresses.     Here's  a  stack  of 
newspapers  Grandma  was  going  to  throw  away, 
and  I  saved  them." 

"Goody !    What  fun !    Shall  we  pin  or  sew?" 
"We'll  pin  till  the  pins  give  out,  and  then  we'll 
sew." 

"Paper  dresses"  was  a  favorite  pastime  with 
the  children.  Usually  Stella  was  with  them,  and 
they  depended  a  good  deal  on  her  taste  and  skill. 
But  to-day  they  had  to  manage  without  her,  and 
so  the  dresses,  though  fairly  well  made,  were  not 
the  fashionable  garments  Stella  turned  out. 


282  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

A  whole  double  sheet  of  newspaper  was  long 
enough  for  a  skirt,  which,  in  a  paper  dress,  was 
always  down  to  the  floor,  like  grown-up  gowns, 
and  usually  had  a  long  train.  Sometimes  they 
pasted  the  papers  together,  and  sometimes,  pinned 
or  sewed  them,  as  the  mood  served. 

The  waists  were  often  quite  elaborate  with  sur- 
plice folds,  and  puffy  sleeves,  and  wide,  crushed 
belts. 

So  absorbed  did  they  grow  in  their  costumes 
that  the  time  passed  rapidly.  At  last  they  stood, 
admiring  each  other,  in  their  finished  paper  gowns, 
with  paper  accessories  of  fans,  hats,  and  even 
parasols,  which  were  considered  great  works  of 
art. 

"Let's  play  we're  going  riding  in  an  automo- 
bile," said  Molly. 

"All  right ;  what  shall  be  the  automobile — the 
bed?" 

"No,  that  isn't  high  enough.  I  don't  mean  a 
private  automobile,  I  mean  one  of  those  big  tour- 
ing things  where  you  sit  'way  up  high." 

"Let's  get  up  on  top  of  the  wardrobe." 


AN  EVENTFUL  DAY  283 

"No,  that's  too  high,  and  the  bureau  isn't  high 
enough.  Let's  get  out  on  the  roof  and  hang  our 
feet  over." 

"No,"  said  Marjorie,  decidedly;  "that  would 
be  getting  into  mischief;  and  besides,  I  promised 
Grandma  I  wouldn't  leave  the  room.  Come  on, 
Molly,  let's  climb  up  on  the  wardrobe.  There 
can't  be  any  harm  in  that,  and  'twill  be  lots  of 
fun." 

"How  can  we  get  up  ?" 

Marjorie  looked  at  the  wardrobe  and  meditated. 
"Easy  enough,"  she  said  after  a  moment:  "we'll 
just  put  a  chair  on  the  table  and  climb  up  as  nice 
as  pie !" 

The  girls  worked  energetically,  yet  careful  not 
to  tear  their  paper  costumes ;  and  removing  the 
things  from  a  strong  square  table,  they  pushed  it 
up  to  the  wardrobe.  On  this  they  set  a  chair,  and 
Marjorie  volunteered  to  go  up  first,  saying  that,  if 
it  didn't  break  down  with  her,  it  surely  wouldn't 
with  Molly. 

So  Molly  held  the  table  firmly,  while  Marjorie 
climbed  up  and,  though  it  required  some  scram- 


MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

bling,  she  finally  reached  the  top  of  the  heavy 
wardrobe,  without  more  than  a  dozen  tears  in  her 
paper  dress. 

"Bring  up  my  parasol,  Molly,"  she  said,  "I  for- 
got it;  and  bring  some  papers  and  the  scissors, 
and  we'll  make  some  automobile  goggles." 

Laden  with  these  things,  Molly  briskly  started 
to  climb  up.  The  light,  wiry  child  sprang  easily 
on  to  the  table,  and  then  on  to  the  chair.  Mar- 
jorie  lent  a  helping  hand,  but  just  as  Molly 
crawled  up  to  the  top  of  the  wardrobe,  her  flying 
foot  kicked  the  chair  over,  which  in  turn  upset 
the  table. 

"Now,  you  have  done  it !"  said  Marjork.  "How 
are  we  going  to  get  down?" 

"It  seems  to  me,"  said  Molly,  grimly,  "that 
we're  always  getting  into  places  where  we  can't  get 
down,  or  can't  get  up,  or  something." 

"Never  mind ;  Jane  or  somebody  will  come  along 
soon  and  set  the  table  up  again  for  us." 

It  really  was  great  fun  to  play  they  were  on 
a  high  motor  car  seeing  New  York.  But  after 
a  while  the  game  palled,  and  their  paper  dresses 


AN  EVENTFUL  DAY  285 

became  torn,  and  the  girls  wanted  to  get  down  and 
play  something  else. 

But  neither  Jane  nor  any  one  else  hap- 
pened to  come  along,  and  though  Marjorie 
called  a  few  times,  nobody  seemed  to  be  within 
hearing. 

"I  should  think  we  could  find  some  way  to  get 
down,"  said  Molly.  "Can't  you  think  of  any  way, 
Mops?" 

Marjorie  considered.  To  jump  was  out  of  the 
question,  as  it  would  probably  mean  a  sprained 
ankle. 

"I  wish  we  had  a  rope  ladder,"  she  said,  "and, 
Molly,  I  do  believe  we  can  make  one.  Not  a  ladder, 
exactly,  but  don't  you  know  how  people  sometimes 
escape  from  prisons  by  tying  sheets  together  and 
letting  themselves  down?" 

"Yes,  but  we  haven't  any  sheets." 

"I  know  it,  but  we  can  take  our  dress  skirts. 
Not  the  paper  ones,  but  our  own  gingham  ones. 
They're  strong,  thick  stuff,  and  we  can  tie  them 
together  somehow  and  let  ourselves  down  that 
way." 


286  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

Although  obliged  to  work  in  somewhat  cramped 
quarters,  the  girls  managed  to  take  off  their  dress 
skirts,  and,  as  they  were  very  full,  one  of  them  was 
really  sufficient  to  reach  far  enough  down  the  side 
of  the  wardrobe  to  make  a  jump  possible. 

"I'll  tell  you  what,"  said  Marjorie:  "let's 
tie  the  two  together  at  the  corners  like  this, 
and  then  put  it  right  across  the  top  of  the 
wardrobe,  and  each  of  us  slide  down  on  opposite 
sides." 

When  the  full  skirts  were  stretched  out  to  their 
greatest  width  and  tied  together  by  their  hems,  at 
what  Marjorie  called  a  corner,  the  girls  flung  the 
whole  affair  across  the  top  of  the  wardrobe,  and 
sure  enough,  the  skirts  hung  down  on  either  side 
to  within  four  or  five  feet  of  the  floor,  which  was 
quite  near  enough  to  jump. 

So  thick  and  strong  was  the  material,  there  was 
really  no  danger  of  tearing  it,  and  in  great  glee 
the  girls  grasped  their  life-line  and  half  slid,  half 
clambered  down. 

They  came  down  on  the  floor  with  a  sudden 
thump,  but  in  safety.  All  would  have  been  well  had 


AN  EVENTFUL  DAY  287 

they  had  sense  enough  to  let  go  of  their  gingham 
skirts,  but,  doubled  up  with  laughter,  they  clung 
to  them,  with  the  result  that  a  sudden  and  unin- 
tentional jerk  forward  brought  the  whole  ward- 
robe over  on  its  face,  and  it  fell  crashing  to  the 
floor. 

Such  a  racket  as  it  made !  It  fell  upon  a  small 
table,  whose  load  of  vases  and  bric-a-brac  was 
totally  wrecked.  It  also  smashed  a  chair  and  very 
nearly  hit  the  bird-cage. 

And  just  at  this  moment,  of  all  times,  Uncle 
Steve  appeared  at  the  door ! 

Although  dismayed  at  the  catastrophe,  Uncle 
Steve  couldn't  help  laughing  at  the  astonished 
faces  of  the  two  girls.  For,  jubilant  at  the  suc- 
cess of  their  descent,  the  accompanying  disaster 
had  been  thrust  on  them  so  suddenly  that  they 
scarcely  knew  what  it  all  meant.  And  costumed  as 
they  were,  in  their  little  ruffled  white  petticoats, 
with  hats  and  bodices  made  of  newspaper,  the  sight 
was  a  comical  one  indeed. 

"Marjorie  Maynard!"  exclaimed  Uncle  Steve, 
"you  certainly  do  beat  the  Dutch,  and  Molly  lends 


288  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

you  valuable  aid.  Would  you  mind  telling  me 
why  you  prefer  the  wardrobe  flat  on  its  face  in- 
stead of  in  an  upright  position?" 

"Oh,  Uncle  Steve  it  upset  itself,  and  I'm  so 
sorry !" 

"Oh,  well,  if  it  upset  itself  I  suppose  it  did  so 
because  it  prefers  to  lie  that  way.  Probably  it 
was  tired  and  wanted  to  rest.  Wardrobes  are  a 
lazy  lot,  anyway.  But  do  you  know,  I  was  stupid 
enough  to  think  that  you  girls  had  something  to 
do  with  its  downfall." 

"Oh,  we  did,  Uncle  Steve,"  declared  Marjorie, 
and  as  by  this  time  her  uncle's  arm  was  around 
her,  and  she  realized  his  sympathetic  attitude  in 
the  matter,  she  rapidly  began  to  tell  him  all 
about  it. 

"We  were  playing  automobile,  you  see " 

"Oh,  well,  if  it  was  an  automobile  accident,  it's 
not  at  all  surprising.  Was  it  reckless  driving,  or 
did  you  collide  with  something?" 

"We  collided  with  the  table,"  said  Marjorie, 
laughing;  but  just  then  Grandma  Sherwood  ap- 
peared, and  somehow  the  look  of  consternation  on 


AN  EVENTFUL  DAY  289 

her  face  seemed  to  take  all  the  fun  out  of  the  whole 
affair. 

But  Uncle  Steve  stood  between  Marjorie  and  a 
reprimand,  and  in  consequence  of  his  comical  ex- 
planation of  the  disaster,  Mrs.  Sherwood  fell  to 
laughing,  and  the  tragedy  became  a  comedy. 

And  then,  at  Uncle  Steve's  orders,  the  girls  were 
made  tidy,  and  he  took  them  out  for  a  drive,  while 
the  long-suffering  Carter  was  called  in  to  remove 
all  evidences  of  the  dreadful  automobile  accident. 


CHAPTER  XXI 

A    FAREWELL    TEA-PARTY 

THE  summer,  as  all  summers  will  do,  came  to  an 
end,  and  at  last  it  was  the  very  day  before  Mar- 
jorie  was  to  leave  Haslemere  and  go  back  to  her 
own  home. 

The  three  friends  were  having  a  farewell  tea- 
party  at  "Breezy  Inn,"  and  very  sad  were  the  three 
little  faces  at  the  thought  of  parting. 

"And  the  worst  of  it  is,"  said  Midget,  "I  can't 
come  again  for  four  years,  and  then  I'll  be  six- 
teen years  old,  just  think  of  that !" 

"So  will  I,"  said  Molly ;  "we'll  be  almost  young 
ladies.  Isn't  it  horrid?" 

"At  least  we  won't  get  into  such  mischief,"  said 
Marjorie,  laughing  as  she  remembered  the  scrapes 
they  had  been  in  all  summer.  "And  next  year  it's 
290 


A  FAREWELL  TEA-PARTY         291 

Kitty's  turn  to  come,  and  you'll  have  fun  with 
her  here  in  "Breezy  Inn,"  and  I  won't  be  here." 

At  this  pathetic  announcement,  Stella  began  to 
cry  in  earnest,  and  merry  Molly  tried  to  cheer  the 
others  up. 

"Well,  we  can't  help  it,"  she  said,  "and  I  sup- 
pose, Marjorie,  you'll  be  having  a  good  time  some- 
where else." 

"I  s'pose  so.  They  were  all  at  the  seashore  this 
summer,  and  Kitty  wrote  to  me  that  she  had  had  a 
lovely  time." 

"Maybe  she'll  trade  off  with  you,"  said  Stella, 
"and  let  you  come  up  here  next  summer,  while  she 
goes  to  the  seashore  again." 

"Maybe  she  will,"  said  Midget,  brightening  up ; 
"I'd  like  that,  but  I  don't  believe  Mother  will  let 
us.  You  see,  we  take  regular  turns  spending  the 
summer  with  Grandma.  Baby  Rosamond  never 
has  been  yet,  but  when  it's  her  turn  again,  she'll 
be  old  enough,  and  so  that  puts  me  off  for  four 
years." 

"Don't  let's  talk  about  it,"  said  Molly,  as  she 
took  her  eleventh  ginger-snap  from  the  plate ;  "we 


292  MARJORIE'S  VACATION 

can't  help  it,  and  we  may  as  well  look  on  the 
bright  side.  Let's  write  letters  to  each  other  this 
winter;  shall  we?" 

"Yes,  indeed,"  said  Stella ;  "I'll  write  you  every 
week,  Marjorie,  and  you  must  write  to  me,  and 
we'll  all  send  each  other  Christmas  presents,  and, 
of  course  'Breezy  Inn'  will  be  shut  up  for  the 
winter  anyway,  I  suppose." 

"I  suppose  it  will,"  said  Marjorie,  "and  I  s'pose 
it's  time  for  us  to  go  now ;  it's  six  o'clock." 

There  was  a  little  choke  in  her  voice  as  she  said 
this,  and  a  little  mist  in  her  eyes  as  she  looked  for 
the  last  time  at  the  familiar  treasures  of  "Breezy 
Inn." 

Stella  was  weeping  undisguisedly,  and  with  her 
wet  little  mop  of  a  handkerchief  pressed  into  her 
eyes,  she  could  scarcely  see  her  way  down  the 
ladder. 

But  Uncle  Steve,  who  came  across  the  fields  to 
meet  them,  promptly  put  a  stop  to  this  state  of 
things. 

"That's  enough,"  he  said,  "of  weeps  and  wails ! 
Away  with  your  handkerchiefs  and  out  with  your 


A  FAREWELL  TEA-PARTY         293 

smiles,  every  one  of  you!  Suppose  Marjorie  is 
going  away  to-morrow,  she's  going  off  in  a  blaze 
of  glory  and  amid  shouts  of  laughter,  and  she's 
not  going  to  leave  behind  any  such  doleful-looking 
creatures  as  you  two  tearful  maidens." 

Uncle  Steve's  manner  was  infectiously  cheery, 
and  the  girls  obeyed  him  in  spite  of  themselves. 

And  so,  when  the  next  morning  Uncle  Steve 
drove  Marjorie  to  the  station,  the  girls  were  not 
allowed  to  go  with  her,  but  were  commanded  to 
wave  gay  and  laughing  good-bys  after  her  until 
she  was  out  of  sight. 

And  so,  all  through  the  winter  Marjorie's  last 
recollection  of  Haslemere  was  of  Molly  and  Stella 
standing  on  her  own  little  porch  waving  two  hand- 
kerchiefs apiece  and  smiling  gayly  as  they  called 
out: 

"Good-by,  Marjorie !  Good-by,  Mopsy  Midget ! 
Good-by!" 


By  VICTOR  APPLETON 


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Or  The  Hidden  City  of  the  Andes 


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